


The Majority who Participate

by Argella



Series: Campaign Universe [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American Politics, F/M, No Angst, Politics, arya & shireen are almost 30 but speak like gen z'ers sorry, arya and margaery are progressives, gendry mostly campaigns to spend time with arya, gendry said 'fuck the bourgeoisie', liberal politics, mechanic!Gendry, mostly fluff and politics, park ranger!arya, really just me getting off over politics, small sansaery subplot later, very small
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-09-28 02:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20418194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argella/pseuds/Argella
Summary: Arya is no stranger to political campaigns. Her brother Robb had followed in their dad’s footsteps and gotten into politics immediately after graduating from law school. Their mother had made sure that all of her children did everything they could to help out with his campaigns—through canvassing, designing signs, and even starring in tv ads. Their success was evident in his quick rise from their state’s house of representatives to junior Senator. So, when Sansa’s good friend Margaery decides to run against incumbent Joffrey Baratheon for state senate, Arya’s time is immediately volunteered for her. Little did she know she’d be spending most of the campaign trying to convince Gendry Waters, a constituent apathetic toward politics, the importance of voting.





	1. August

**Author's Note:**

> So, I really tried to convince myself to finish this whole fic & then post it as a oneshot, but I just couldn't help myself + i think it works better as 4 separate chapters. I wrote this to go with this (https://ladystvrk.tumblr.com/post/187125596495/campaign-au-arya-is-no-stranger-to-political) photo set I posted to tumblr.  
Title is weird af, i know, but it's from the quote "We in America do not have government by the majority. We have government by the majority who participate."  
I have tried to keep irl politics at a minimum in this, but Arya is a progressive in this story & Gendry hates the 1%ers (as is canon) so if you are offended by progressive/liberal/Democratic viewpoints, this is probably not the story for you. Ultimately this is a weird mix of American politics and Westerosi geography. King's Landing is basically Washington DC, but not a district--try not to question it too much  
For anyone not familiar with American politics/government/campaigns, I'll be including little cheat sheets at the bottom of each chapter, though you may find google more accurate.  
Finally, I am NOT comparing Republicans to Joffrey. Joffrey just happens to be a Republican in this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really tried to convince myself to finish this whole fic & then post it as a oneshot, but I just couldn't help myself + i think it works better as 4 separate chapters. I wrote this to go with this (https://ladystvrk.tumblr.com/post/187125596495/campaign-au-arya-is-no-stranger-to-political) photo set I posted to tumblr.  
Title is weird af, i know, but it's from the quote "We in America do not have government by the majority. We have government by the majority who participate."  
I have tried to keep irl politics at a minimum in this, but Arya is a progressive in this story & Gendry hates the 1%ers (as is canon) so if you are offended by progressive/liberal/Democratic viewpoints, this is probably not the story for you. Ultimately this is a weird mix of American politics and Westerosi geography. King's Landing is basically Washington DC, but not a district--try not to question it too much  
For anyone not familiar with American politics/government/campaigns, I'll be including little cheat sheets at the bottom of each chapter, though you may find google more accurate.  
Finally, I am NOT comparing Republicans to Joffrey. Joffrey just happens to be a Republican in this story.

_August_

It’s nearing 3pm, the sun is beating down on her neck, and Arya is ready to finish for the day and head home.

When she had agreed to help out with Margaery’s campaign (or rather, when Sansa had hounded her into helping) she had hoped she wouldn’t have to spend every weekend canvassing, maybe spend some time hitting the phones instead. At least then when people were yelling obscenities at you and questioning how you got their phone number (public record people) it was done in the cool, albeit a bit stale, air conditioning of the office Margaery was renting out. She would admit though, the app that Margaery and her campaign team insisted on them using to keep track of houses they’d stopped at was a lot more efficient than the paper and clipboards they had used for Robb’s last campaign.

Normally she wouldn’t mind canvassing too much. Sure, people could be rude and, sometimes, downright hostile. But, despite all of her grumbling, Arya really believed in Margaery as a candidate and was always pleased to be met with a constituent eager to learn more about her and her platform. Still, Arya had had a long week at work and the last thing she wanted to do today was get up at 8am, drive over to the already hectic office, and be sent out to some neighborhood she wasn’t familiar with in order to convince people that they really ought to be thinking about the midterm election three months from now. Not when she could be home relaxing and catching up on chores around the house.

So, when she looks at her phone and sees she only has one house left on the map to hit before she can head back to where she parked her car, she sends a silent prayer of thanks to the Old Gods. Hoping it’ll be an easy one—older, same party affiliation as Margaery, frequent voter—she clicks on the voter profile.

**Gendry Waters** (I)

Male, 33 y/o

1712 NW Fleabottom Rd.

No voter history available

She finds herself letting out a sigh at the Independent mark by his name, and yet another one at seeing the man has never voted before.

Margaery’s primary had been a closed one, so only registered members of their party could vote in it. She had easily beaten Albar Royce and her team had immediately gone into overdrive so as to win the general election against that shithead, Joffrey Lannister. She now needed to shift some of her focus to constituents who were registered with the main opposing party, fringe parties, and Independents. Arya had nothing against Independents, per say, she just hated trying to convince them to vote for someone running under a major party. They were just as likely to swing to the other party as they were hers and, with no voter history to look at, this guy could easily be supporting Lannister already. It was never any fun trying to talk to someone, only to realize they were a Lannister supporter, none-to-eager to have you on their doorstep.

Seeing Mr. Waters’ house is only one house over from the one she had just stopped at and gotten no answer from (though she was positive she heard the sound of the tv coming from the inside of the house), she wipes the sweat off her brow, plasters on a smile, and makes her way toward it.

The house is buttery yellow in color, the shutters a sun-bleached red, and the grass is what her mom would describe as ‘a few days past in need of a mowing.’ It’s a cute house really, if looking a little bit like the owner doesn’t have time for the upkeep. Arya isn’t really one to talk though; her job at the local state park keeps her busy and she often finds herself putting off household chores. There’s an old Chevy parked in the driveway so it’s safe to say the owner is home. Whether he’ll actually open the door to her or not is a whole other story. She doesn’t see any Lannister signs in the yard, so at least he doesn’t seem to be a fervent supporter of the opposition.

She’s got the thought of sitting in her car with the AC on high on her mind as she reaches forward and raps twice on the door, taking one step back so as not to crowd the guy. She’s counting the seconds in her head, debating on whether talking to him is worth another knock (Margaery has three months before the election, someone is bound to have to visit this house again if she marks it as a ‘Not Home’) when she hears a muffled voice call out.

“Hang on a second.”

Holding in her groan, she begins rehearsing the script in her head and rifling through the pamphlets she has left to hand out. She’s propping the stack up on one knee, trying to root out the one with Margaery’s amendment recommendations on it, when the door jerks open and startles her, causing her to nearly send the stack to the ground.

Standing in the doorway is a man who very well could be Gendry Waters. He’s tall and broad, with thick black hair and piercing blue eyes. The stubble on his jaw and slight wrinkles around those blue eyes certainly make him look like he could be in his 30s. Arya tends to be too engrossed in her spiel on Margaery to truly take in what the people she’s talking to look like but, frankly, this guy is hot.

And also frowning down at her.

She clears her throat, already worried from the look on his face that this is going to go badly. “Good afternoon sir! My name is Arya and I’m a volunteer for—”

“Look, whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.” He’s moving to shut the door in her face when her sneaker-clad foot darts out, wedging itself between the door and its frame. She cringes internally, knowing her mother would be having a conniption about how unsafe that move just was if she could see her.

Engaging a constituent like this is not a good idea, but she can’t help herself from blurting out, louder than necessary, “I’m not selling anything. Look, are you Gendry Waters or what?”

He eyes her warily. “Who’s asking?”

“If you’d have let me finish,” she grumbles out. His eyebrow raises, an unimpressed look adorning his face. “I’m a volunteer for the Margaery Tyrell campaign. Are you Gendry Waters?”

He looks reluctant to answer. “Yeah. And before you start asking for donations or something, you should know I don’t—”

“Vote. Yeah, I know.”

His forehead scrunches up in confusion. Knowing he’s about to ask how she knows that (they always do) she decides to speak before he can.

Rattling off parts of the script she’s been using the past few weeks, she says, “Margaery Tyrell is running for State Senate this election against Republican incumbent Joffrey Lannister. A former social worker, Margaery feels strongly about the housing crisis plaguing our district. Should she be elected, she looks forward to being sent to our state’s capital to immediately begin working with fellow legislators on ways to provide affordable housing to lower income families in our district and around the state. Margaery is also a staunch advocate for the environment, and supports recently introduced S.B. 4120, the Kingswood Wildlife Preservation Act. Do these seem like qualities in a candidate that interest you?”

The man—Gendry Waters’ forehead is still furrowed, only now there’s a scowl around his mouth. “Tyrell? As in the family that owns that big agricultural company out in the Reach?”

She hesitates. He’s that type of independent then. Arya herself was never too keen on the Tyrell family business, but in all her years as Sansa’s friend, Margaery had proven herself to be down-to-earth and, recently, willing to take on the big corporations by closing legal loopholes that allow them to wreak havoc on the environment. “Margaery’s father and grandmother own shares in Tyrell Farm Corp., yes.” Seeing he’s about to retort back she adds on, “Margaery has, however, asked that her family have little involvement in her campaign, and only make personal donations totaling no more than $100.”

He scoffs. “Right, I’m sure she has.”

If Arya couldn’t feel sweat pooling on the back of her neck and the rumble of hunger that came from only eating an apple on the drive to the office this morning, she might have stayed. She might have set the record straight about Margaery and the donations she was accepting for her campaign. She might have done all in her power to sway this man into voting for Margaery. But honestly, after the attitude he was giving her and all of these other factors, she couldn’t be assed to try. Besides, if he has a problem with Margaery’s background, at least she now knows he won’t be voting for Joffrey. The Lannister family is a terror.

“Okay, I can see I’m not going to be getting anywhere here. Can I just leave some pamphlets with you?”

“Yeah, fine,” he grumbles out. She hands some of the glossy fliers to him, ready for the inevitable slamming of the door.

He’s staring at her pointedly, clearing his throat when all she does is stare at him confused. “Your foot…”

Embarrassed, she pulls her foot back from the doorway it was still sticking out in, turning around to walk the few blocks back to her car. “Have a good day sir,” she calls out behind her sarcastically. She rolls her eyes at the sound of the door slamming.

It takes a lot of restraint to not add “a bit of an asshole” to the notes on his voter profile.

\--

Arya’s just washing up the last of the dishes she’d let pile up over the week in her sink when her drier buzzes, signaling the load she’d put in was done. Putting the last plate in the drying rack, she wipes her hands off on a dish towel and heads toward her laundry room.

As soon as she’d gotten home from canvassing, she’d taken a shower, thrown on some comfortable clothes, and started making headway in her list of chores. She’s hoping to get through the last few things by tomorrow morning, so she might have time to get some gardening done. Jon always makes fun of her choosing to spend her Sundays gardening, especially when she spends all of her week outdoors at work, but she’s pretty sure he’s just upset that he can’t keep a plant alive for shit.

She’s just finished putting her clothes away when she enters the living room to see her phone light up with a text. Checking it, she sees it’s from her friend Shireen.

**Queen Shireen:** Drinks tonight? On me.

**Arya:** You had me at free drinks, lmao

**Queen Shireen:** Haha, I thought I would. The Crossroads?

**Arya:** Ew, no, that gross bartender might be working

**Queen Shireen:** Tru, tru.

**Arya:** How about Hot Pie’s place

**Queen Shireen:** Is he working tonight?

**Arya:** Idk, maybe

**Arya:** If he is, we can probably get some free fries from him

**Queen Shireen:** I’m down.

**Arya:** 9:30?

**Queen Shireen:** Lmao bitch, you thought.

**Queen Shireen:** I have to be up early tomorrow to catch the ferry to Dragonstone. I’m going to visit my father and stepmom.

**Arya:** Ooh, the wicked witch of Dragonstone herself

**Queen Shireen: **She wishes.

**Queen Shireen:** …literally. She wishes she were a witch.

**Arya:** Don’t we all

**Queen Shireen:** Lol.

**Queen Shireen:** 7:30?

**Arya**: Sounds good! I’ll see you there

\--

The bar Hot Pie works at had been an inn before it had been a bar. He’d been the cook there and when it had been bought out by some congressman named Dondarrion from the Marches, they’d kept Hot Pie on. At his insistence, they’d kept much of the inn’s menu when it became the bar, though most people settled for ordering fries and nachos, much to Hot Pie’s chagrin. The outside was just as dingy as it had been when it was an inn—apparently the new owner couldn’t be fucked to clean it up a bit—and the sign on the front was in such disrepair, that nobody knew the actual name of the place. She’d heard some of the bartenders refer to themselves as a brotherhood, but she figured that was just some weird southern thing.

When Arya arrives, she has to muscle her way past a few people before reaching the corner booth Shireen has managed to snag, her purse, coat, and drink spread across the seat and table, an intimidating look on her face. Well, intimidating for Shireen.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, just lost track of time a bit.” She slides some of Shireen’s stuff over and plops down on the sticky vinyl seat.

Shireen rolls her eyes. “’s fine, I got started without ya.”

She sends her friend a grin. “I can tell. So, what’s wrong then, why are you already tipsy at…,” she checks her phone, “8:04?”

Shireen lets out a prolonged sigh, propping her right arm onto the table and resting her face against her hand. “Just not lookin’ forward to going home tomorrow.”

Arya shrugs. “So don’t.”

“That’s the thing. Think I really need to.” She begins twirling around her empty glass, the ice clinking softly. “My dad’s been really moody since he lost his reelection.”

She lets out a scoff. “Stannis hates Dragonstone and the people that live there. He lost that election _two _years ago. We both know how this works Shireen, he could’ve up and relocated and ran somewhere more conservative. _Or, _he could’ve run for something at the local level.”

“As if the mighty Stannis Baratheon would deign to go from Senator to…to…to mayor or something. And the way that Red Witch is in his ear all of the time, tellin’ him how he oughta run for President, how he could be more successful than his brother…Yeah, I definitely need to go home for a bit. Just don’t really wanna.” She takes another pull of her drink, frowning when she gets nothing but melted ice. Arya sends a soft look her friend’s way, concerned.

“Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to go get one drink for me and a water for you, close out the tab, then we’ll head to your place and watch some trashy tv. You’ll go to sleep, I’ll crash on your couch, and I’ll drive you to catch the ferry tomorrow if, and only if, you still feel up to going, okay?”

“Fine, fine. But you should know, Hot Pie isn’t working tonight so we can’t get free fries,” she pouts.

She chuckles at her friend’s disgruntled expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy us some fries.”

After a few minutes she’s managed to flag down a bartender. She’s leaning against the bar, hoping whoever is in the back tonight makes them as crispy as Hot Pie does, when she sees a familiar face under a mop of black hair a few stools down, nursing a beer. It’s the guy from earlier, Gendry. He’s in conversation with someone, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. If he looked good before, frowning at her, he looks even better now; friendlier, more open. Too bad his personality didn’t seem to match. When his eyes drift past the guy he’s talking to, meeting her own, she quickly glances back to behind the bar.

Once she gets her drinks and fries, she maneuvers her way through the thickening crowd back to Shireen, steadfastly ignoring Gendry Waters. She places the fries down in front of Shireen, trying to drag her attention away from the bar.

“What are you looking at?”

Shireen’s forehead is scrunched up in thought. “Why were you glaring at my Uncle Renly?”

“Who?”

“The guy with the black hair and the beer. That’s my uncle.” Maybe Shireen had had more to drink than she originally thought.

“No,” she drags out, “that’s some guy I met canvassing today. His name’s Gendry.”

“Weird. He looks just like my uncle.” She picks up a handful of fries, shoving them in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “Hot Pie’s fries are crispier.”

\--

It’s around 9 am when she gets home from taking Shireen to catch the ferry. She hadn’t slept very well on Shireen’s couch, so she’s ready to lay down in her own soft bed to catch a few more hours of sleep, maybe make some pancakes after, then head outside to tend to her garden. She’s just finished changing from her grimy bar clothes into some pajamas when her phone lights up from her nightstand.

**Sansa:** Emergency

**Sansa:** We’re phonebanking from 12-4 today and two volunteers said they can’t come in

**Sansa:** Marge and I really need the extra help and you’re great with the phones

**Sansa:** Please

**Arya:** Ok

**Arya:** You owe me pancakes next weekend

**Sansa:** Deal! Thanks so much, see you soon

She lets out a sigh, setting an alarm for 11 before settling into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely hate canvassing but arya is way more of a people person, so hopefully i didn't project too much  
I have chapter 2 written and am just starting chapter 3, so when that's finished I'll post chapter 2! I hope you guys enjoyed the beginning of this and are interested in more!
> 
> Here are a few things you might want to know to understand the context of this chapter  
-constituent: basically a voter in the district  
-primary election: this election is where you vote between candidates to see who will represent their party in the main election against the other party candidate(s). primaries are on different days in different states. where i live, the primary in 2018 was in mid-august but it really varies, but that's when i've made it in the story. in a closed primary, you may only vote for a candidate running for the party you are registered with (i.e., a Democrat can only vote for a Democrat, a Republican can only vote for a Republican, etc.). some states have open primaries  
-general election: this is the main election that happens in November.  
-midterm election: major elections take place every 2 years in America. a midterm election is one in which you are NOT voting for president (ex. 2018). these are still super important elections!!  
-canvassing: the bread & butter of campaigns and my own personal hell. this is, essentially, going door knocking and asking to speak with people about your candidate.  
-phonebanking: calling people over the phone to speak about your candidate. sucks slightly less than canvassing.  
-state senate: each state has their own senate and house of representatives who meet in the state's capital. when someone is called a Senator (ex. Marco Rubio or Elizabeth Warren) they are talking about Senators who represent the whole state, and are part of the federal government. state senators deal with state legislation, not federal. this is what margaery is running for, while robb is a Senator. state senators are elected every two years, while 1/3 of Senators are up for reelection every year (meaning Robb will be in office for 6 years at a time)  
-house of representatives: not super relevant to the story but there is a HoR at both the state and federal level (like the senate). they all serve 2 year terms  
-Independents: the two major parties in America are the Democratic party and the Republican party, however you may also register as an Independent--someone not affiliated with either party. people do this for many reasons (usually because they identify with neither party). people registered as independents may be far left, far right, or even moderate.


	2. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else been thinking about September by Earth, Wind & Fire all day? Just me?  
I'm still writing some of ch. 3 then want to do some editing plus i just got a new job, so the last two chapters might be awhile

_September_

By mid-September, Margaery’s number of volunteers has seen a huge increase. She had recently released a television ad that included testimonials of people whose cases she had worked on as a social worker. According to Sansa, the ad had been a success among liberal voters and a large group of undecideds but had caused a bit of an outrage among Lannister supporters, who spammed the comments with claims that the people in the ad were paid actors.

The local Democratic party in the district had condemned these hateful comments, but Margaery didn’t seem to let it bother her. Sansa, however, was more stressed out than ever. While she wasn’t officially on the payroll for Margaery’s campaign, her job allowed her to work from home, so she spent much of that time in the office, strategizing with Margaery’s actual campaign manager. Despite having more volunteers on hand, Arya had been asked to canvass every Saturday and was even phonebanking after work on the days she left early enough.

This Saturday morning, Sansa had thankfully given her a bit of mercy and cut her turf that she had already been to.

To distract herself from the heat, she’d started playing a game where she’d find the next house on the map and try guessing who it was that lived there from what she remembered about the house. She had only spoken to a few people today, most of whom had been undecided or not home when she had last canvassed this neighborhood.

She’s just finished speaking to an older woman that had the cutest dog with her at the front door when she looks down at the map and begins walking to the next house. Following along the map on her phone, she’s just about reached the driveway when she looks up and stops at the sight of red shutters.

His truck is in the driveway again, so he’s most likely home. She didn’t have to speak to anyone that she felt uncomfortable around or who she thought might harass her, but he didn’t do either of those things. She could just skip over it so he would end back up on someone else’s list and feign surprise if it was brought up that she’d missed the house. Still on the fence, she has her mind made up for her when he comes outside, keys in hand, and begins locking up his house.

It’ll just be a quick chat, she tells herself. Why is she letting this guy get to her? It’s not like he had gotten physical with her—just a little rude.

“Excuse me, sir? Do you have a minute to speak?”

He spins around to her quickly, nearly dropping his keys in surprise.

“You here to hand me more pamphlets?”

She sends him a wide grin despite the annoyance she’s feeling at the moment. If her mother had instilled anything into her children while they worked on Robb’s first campaign, it was to kill people with kindness. “Actually, I’m here to speak to you about Margaery’s campaign platform and the way her campaign is currently being financed. Do you have a minute?”

“Actually, I’m about to—”

“Great!” She begins walking forward, meeting him where he stands about halfway between his front door and truck. “As I said the last time we spoke, if elected Margaery would like to introduce a comprehensive plan to attack the housing crisis our district is facing. She is an advocate for the environment and also would like our elected officials to make public education a higher priority during both the legislative and appropriations process. She supports early childhood education and believes in raising salaries for public school teachers. Her support for public education has even earned her an endorsement from the King’s Landing Education Association. Are these qualities in a candidate that interest you?”

She can see the way his eyes take in her straight-backed stance and the stubborn set of her jaw. That should get him.

He lets out a sigh, dragging his hand over his face for a moment before putting his keys in his front pocket. “Fine, yes, those are things that I support.”

She moves on to the next general question the script would call for. “So, may I ask what about Margaery as a candidate still leaves you unsure?”

His eyes seem to light up at the question and it’s as if she had completely imagined that air of defeat that had surrounded him just a moment ago.

“A lot of things, actually. Do you know why I don’t vote?” he asks.

She expects he thinks she won’t answer; leave it at a rhetorical question. “Because, like many people who have to work on election day, you’ve faced multiple forms of voter suppression?”

“What?” He sends a confused look her way before shaking his head. “No. I don’t vote because there’s no point to it.”

She sends him an unamused look. This is far from the first time she’s heard this excuse.

“Every one of you volunteers that comes out here each election year is always trying to peddle some crap politician to us. Someone who doesn’t give a shit about the people on Flea Bottom, or the struggles they face. Just more candidates who come from money who claim they want to help us, only to use us to get elected. Then they all retire or lose eventually and use the experience we _gave _them, to get some cushy job in the private sector. If they lose, they’re just replaced by another one; someone exactly like them. So no, I don’t vote because I haven’t seen one candidate worth voting for, and I’m not about to start with Margaery Tyrell, heir to a toxic agricultural dynasty.” Arya’s surprised there isn’t steam coming out of his nose by the end of his rant. His jaw is squared, his face a bit red, and a scowl mars his face.

“That’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” he asks, voice gruff, eyes narrowed.

“That’s an excuse and you know it. Let’s forget Margaery for a minute. You say there are no good candidates—have you ever actually paid attention to any of the primary elections?” She can tell he’s about ready to butt in, but she continues on before he can. “Of course you haven’t. If you had, you would know that in the past 2 election cycles, there’s been a surge in grassroot campaigns—all around the country actually. Candidates who feel just the same way I imagine you do about campaign finance—progressive candidates--have been running, you’ve obviously just not been paying attention.”

“Yeah, well they’re not the ones I have the choice to vote for come November, are they?” he sneers.

“Then fucking vote for them in their primaries!” His eyes widen a fraction at her outburst, and they hear the banging of the screen door from his neighbor’s house.

A man in a dark blue bathrobe has stepped out on his porch, sending a glare their way. “Will you two quiet the fuck down?”

“Oh, fuck off Lommy, it’s already 12:30.” Gendry shouts toward the man. Lommy huffs and heads back inside, the door slamming behind him.

Arya flushes a bit at the attention her outburst seems to have garnered but turns back to face him. “Look, if you want to have the chance to vote for the candidate you want in the general election, you need to vote for them in their primary. Volunteer for candidates that meet your criteria. Encourage good candidates to run. I know it sucks when you don’t like either choice—that’s why it’s important to be as involved as possible, as early as possible.”

His eyes still seem to hold a bit of defiance, but he doesn’t say anything. She takes that as a cue to continue.

“I know you don’t seem to think so, but Margaery_ is_ a good candidate. All of those issues you agreed matter to you? She really does care about that stuff. I work over at the Kingswood State Park, so I’ve spent time talking to Margaery about environmental protection and conservation efforts and she really does know her stuff. And the stuff she doesn’t know? Well, she’s taking the time to learn, speaking with people in the community. She attends lots of local events if you ever want to come out and speak to her.”

He sighs. “And the financing aspect?”

She thinks for a second before handing him one of Margaery’s amendment recommendations fliers to him along with the pen she had clipped to the stack.

He sends her a confused look. “You’ve already given me one of these.”

“Write down your email on it. I’ll send you some information—proof that she’s not accepting dark money or anything shady like that.”

“Can you do that?”

She tilts her head, thinking on it quickly. “I don’t see why not. She has to disclose this information anyway.”

“Okay.” He walks around her, pressing the paper against the window of his truck to write his email on it.

Taking it back from him, she says, “I’ll try to get that info over to you by tonight.”

He waves her off. “Take your time. I really do need to be getting to work though.”

She feels her cheeks heat in embarrassment at the thought that she had kind of forced him into listening to her yell at him when he really needed to be somewhere.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” He opens the driver’s side door, climbing in. “I’ll probably see you around again, huh?”

“Maybe,” she replies, knowing it’s unlikely seeing as she’s canvassed him twice now.

He sends a nod her way, closing his truck door before starting it. She begins walking back to where she parked her car, glad to have ended her day of canvassing on an optimistic note.

\--

When she arrives back at the office, it’s relatively quiet. Most of the volunteers and field organizers are out canvassing still.

“Hello?” she calls out.

“Back here!” she hears Sansa reply.

Passing the table of refreshments and snacks, she makes her way to the back-office Sansa has been holing herself up in as of late. She expects to see her sister making phone calls, maybe cutting some more turf for anyone who wanted to double-up today. What she doesn’t expect is to see Rickon sitting at the table next to her while she dials numbers.

“Hey Rickon, what are you doing down here?”

Her brother sends a lazy shrug her way. “There’s a pretty bad storm ready to hit Skagos over the next few days. We prepared the best we could, and Davos said I might as well take a trip somewhere nicer while it hits, since my job won’t leave me much to do during the storm. Figured I’d visit Robb and you guys for a bit.”

Arya had been thrilled when her youngest brother had decided to get a job at Skagos Wildlife Preserve. Her mother, never happy that Arya had majored in wildlife conservation, had been even less thrilled when Rickon told her and their father that he was forgoing college altogether and applying for a job at the Preserve.

“Cool. I think the Senate is in session most of next week, but we should all try to visit Robb when he gets time for lunch. Maybe he’ll sneak us onto the chamber floor again,” she waggles her eyebrows at Rickon, pulling a laugh out of him. Sansa shushes them as she begins speaking to someone on the phone, causing them to roll their eyes in unison.

Arya nods her head toward the door, heading out of it while Rickon follows at her heels.

“So, how’s it been working on yet another campaign?” he teases.

“Incredibly tiring.” She drops down into a seat adjacent to the snack table. “Incredibly important though,” she muses.

He grabs a finger sandwich off a nearby platter, taking a large bite out of it. “I’m so glad I was too young to help out when Robb started running for office,” he says around a mouthful of bread, meat, and cheese. “So, Shireen tells me you’ve made enemies with some hot guy that looks like her uncle while canvassing?”

“What?” she splutters out, knowing immediately he’s talking about Gendry Waters.

“What?” he returns, confused.

“First off, why would Shireen say he was hot if he looks like her uncle, ew. Second off, we’re not enemies.”

“Well,” he starts, polishing off his sandwich in just his second bite. “She never said he was hot, but I have seen her Uncle Renly, and he is pretty easy on the eyes.”

“Okay, third, why have you seen Shireen’s uncle before, and I haven’t?” She pauses for a second. “Wait, since when do you talk to Shireen?”

“It’s been known to happen,” he says around a sly grin.

She frowns back at him. “Gross, please stay away from my friends.” She can tell by the smug look on his face that he’s about the say something even worse, when the door opens and in comes a small group of older volunteers, shutting him up for the time being.

Arya stands up, keys in hand, and ruffles his hair before he can dodge her. “I’m heading out, let Sansa know. Text the group chat when you’re free and we’ll guilt Robb into joining us for lunch.”

“Got it,” he replies, picking up another sandwich.

She remembers what she had said to Gendry earlier that day right when she is ready to head out the door. Turning back, she says, “Rickon? Can you let Sansa know I’m going to access some of the campaign’s finance records later? A voter wanted some information and I said I’d check for him.”

He sends her a weird look, likely wondering why she’s doing additional campaign work on her time off. “Sure thing.”

“Thanks.”

As she walks back to her car, she can’t help but feel a surge of pride at how close she might be to changing Gendry Waters’ point of view on voting.

\--

**To:** gwaters@gmail.com

**From:** nymeria6@gmail.com

**Subject:** Margaery Tyrell – Campaign Finance (no dark money! I tol...

Hi Gendry,

It’s Arya, from the Margaery Tyrell campaign. I’ve attached some documents/screenshots on what we spoke about earlier. These documents date as far back as last October, when Margaery first announced she was running. As you can see, members of the Tyrell family have had very little financial involvement in the campaign and Margaery has not accepted money from PACs or SuperPACs.

Please let me know if you have any other questions about the campaign. The campaign office is located at 1895 Balerion Ave. Staff are in the office from 9am-8pm Mon-Fri, 9am-4pm on Sat, and 12pm-4pm Sun if you ever want to come in and speak to anyone.

-Arya

\--

**To:** nymeria6@gmail.com

**From:** gwaters@gmail.com

**Subject:** Re: Margaery Tyrell – Campaign Finance (no dark money! I…

Hey,

Thanks for getting this to me so soon. I’ll look over it tonight. If you’re right about how the campaign is funded, then…well I’ll keep that in mind come November.

-Gendry

(Sent from my iPhone)

\--

When the end of September rolls around, polls are showing that Margaery is the favorite to win, but her team is trying not to let that get to their heads. Things could change in an instant, especially when up against an opponent that’s as well-funded as Joffrey Lannister.

Arya had been busy the last few days at work, and hadn’t been able to leave until after 7, preventing her from stopping by the office for phonebanking during the week. It’s not until Friday that she finds herself getting off at 5 and making her way over to make some calls.

She’s parked her car and started making her way to the door, halfheartedly brushing some dried mud off her jeans (purely for Sansa’s sake), when she spots a familiar truck parked near the door. Seeing someone in the driver’s seat, she walks along the side of it and taps lightly on the window.

“Gendry?”

He turns in his seat to face her, looking surprised to see her there.

Rolling down his window, “Hi. Arya, right?”

“Right. Are you here to get some more information?”

“Umm,” he stutters out, nervously rubbing the back of his head. “I’m actually here to volunteer? If that’s possible?”

She can’t help but let a laugh burst out. Seeing his frown, “Shit, sorry, I’m just surprised is all. I knew I could be persuasive but that was pretty quick considering where you started.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too cocky. I looked over some of the stuff you gave me, did some of my own research on Margaery, stuff like that. What really pushed me was looking into the current guy, that Lannister dick?”

She lets outs another laugh. “Yeah, he’s a real piece of work.”

“Did you know how many connections he has to oil companies looking to drill in the Narrow Sea? And his family are billionaires but the shitty kind, not the do-gooder kind. Not as rich as the Tyrells are, but his family is definitely funding his campaign. I still have my doubts about Margaery, don’t get me wrong—I’d prefer someone from a working class background—no way has she ever stepped foot on Flea Bottom--, she’s still not as progressive as I’d like, she could be more liberal when it comes to healthcare—”

“Wow, you still have a lot of doubts huh?”

He sends her a glare at her interruption, “_But_, I thought, hell, you’re right. I’d much rather have her in office than another two years of Lannister.”

Grinning, she says, “Well, spending some time in the office and hitting the ground will definitely get you closer to the action and really make a difference on who gets elected. And who knows, maybe we’ll even clear up some of those doubts for you .”

“Maybe.” He only looks half convinced. “Think you can show me the ropes a bit then? Help me get a handle on this whole soliciting thing?”

“Oh, I’m really just a volunteer, Sansa can…” She trails off, seeing the open look on his face. That’s quite a change from the looks she’d gotten used to receiving from him. It’s that hopeful look that makes her say, “Yeah, sure I can, I’m basically an expert at this point. Let’s head in.”

He sends a grin back to her, rolling his window up and cutting the ignition before getting out to follow her into the office.

They’re nearly at the door when she feels his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Before we head in, I actually want to apologize.” She’s turned back to face him now. A light red blush has formed on his cheeks and she notices a smudge of something (Dirt? Oil?) on his neck. “I was uh, a bit of an ass when you first stopped by.”

“A little bit the second time too.” He freezes until a grin starts to form on her face. Seeing she’s joking, “Yeah, then too.” He lets out a chuckle. “I’ve just never really been too involved in politics and like I said, people working for candidates that I’ve spoken with haven’t always had the best intentions and…”

“No, I get it. People tend to get pretty annoyed with strangers knocking on their doors to talk politics.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not really hearing you out.”

“It’s fine, really. Now, let’s get going, before all the good chairs in the office get taken.” Removing the warmth of his hand from her shoulder, he follows her the rest of the way to the door.

When they enter the office, they’re immediately hit by the sound of chatter. People have either cell phones pressed to their ears or Bluetooth headsets on, rattling off similar talking points to the voters they have called. She sees a few familiar faces over in the kitchen area, sipping on coffee and eating snacks that the campaign team has provided.

Her sister spots her immediately. “Arya, thank the gods. Are you here to make calls?”

“Yeah Sansa. This is Gendry,” she says, nodding over her shoulder to where Gendry’s trying to take up as little space as possible in the crowded front room. “He wants to start volunteering. Don’t worry, I’ll show him around and get him started.”

“Okay sounds good, when you’re---. Yes, hello? Hi, my name is Sansa and I’m calling…”

She turns back around to Gendry, leaving Sansa to her call. She has to lean in close to him to be heard over all of the voices. From this distance, she can tell her smells like oil and the slightest hint of cologne, an oddly attractive combination. “Okay, so kitchen is in that corner. There’s always some kind of snacks in here during weeknights and if you come into canvas on weekends. Most phonebanking takes place in here, but it can get a little loud with everyone making calls so let’s head to a back room and I can show you how this all works.”

“Sounds good,” he replies, still surveying the room.

She takes him to one of the back rooms where they keep campaign literature and signs, clearing some space on the table for them. She shows him the campaign software they use for making calls, explaining how to mark voter responses on the page, and goes over the script that Margaery’s team would prefer they stick to when speaking to people.

“You do this a lot then?”

“What, phonebanking?” He nods in reply. “Yeah, I’m here quite a lot. I’ve also worked on a few other campaigns.”

“How do you find the time for all that? Between work and life?”

“It can be hard. I don’t do this every election cycle, but Margaery is a close friend of my sister—the red head out there? I kind of got roped into it. We share similar views and I want her to get elected, so it isn’t that big of a hassle.”

He’s looking at her intently, fiddling with the script she had given him. She can feel her cheeks starting to heat up under his blue eyes. That seems to be happening a lot around him. Clearing her throat, “Are you ready to start making calls then?”

\--

It’s 7:56 pm and about time to wrap things up, so instead of moving onto her next call, Arya exits out of the program and leans back in her chair to stretch out. Gendry is next to her, wrapping up what sounds like a frustrating call.

“No, Margaery. No, it’s pronounced like Mar-jer-ree, not margarine.” There’s a pause. “Yes, Margaery is a woman.” He lifts the phone from his ear, a look of disbelief on his face. “The old bastard really hung up on me when I said she’s a woman!”

Arya’s lips purse. “Yeah, some people do that. Just mark them as a ‘Do not call back.’”

He lets out a heavy sigh, beginning to shut down the laptop he had borrowed from the office. “Is it always this tiring?”

“Calling people who, most of the time, want to berate you for calling them after dinner time? Yes, almost always.”

He laughs. “I’m er, not the most extroverted person so calling people like this is a bit…”

“Draining?”

“Exactly.”

“If you don’t feel comfortable doing it, don’t think you have to prove yourself or something. There are other ways to support the campaign, by canvassing or even just by putting a sign up in your yard.”

His face takes on a determined look that leaves Arya feeling a bit flustered. “Election day is what, the first week of November? I can make it until then.”

“If you say so. But again, don’t feel obligated.”

“Noted.”

She calls out a few goodbyes to people still hanging around the office, Gendry following behind her out to the parking lot. “Think you’ll come back to canvas tomorrow?” she asks, her breath misting in the brisk night air.

“I’ve got work actually.” He’s pushing his hair out of his eyes with one hand, the other swinging his keys around on their key chain.

“What is it you do?” she asks, curious.

‘Umm, I’m a mechanic.” He ducks his head down a bit. “I have to go in on Saturdays most weekends.”

“That explains the smudge then,” she mumbles to herself.

“What was that?”

Embarrassed, she covers it up with, “I said, guess I’ll see you another day then.”

“Oh, okay.” His brows are furrowed.

“Have a good night!”

“Yeah, you too.” He nods, unlocking the door to his truck while Arya walks the short distance to where she’s parked her car.

She watches him back out in her rearview mirror and thinks about how cute he had looked earlier when blushing. Shaking her head to clear it, she starts her own car and turns the radio up to distract her thoughts on the drive home.

\--

**Arya:** So…the guy that looks like your uncle is now volunteering for Margaery’s campaign

**Queen Shireen:** Oh shit.

**Queen Shireen:** Did you work your charm on him or something?

**Arya:** Charm???

**Queen Shireen:** Oh, fucking stop, you know you can be charming when you want to be.

**Arya:** anyWAY

**Arya:** He looked over some of Margaery’s stuff and wanted to get involved I guess

**Queen Shireen:** I bet it’s your stuff he really wants to look over.

**Queen Shireen:** xD

**Arya:** Pls tell me u didn’t just send me the xd face when you have actual emojis right there

**Queen Shireen:** I did, and I won’t apologize.

**Queen Shireen:** Anyway, a little birdie told me you seem to be into this guy.

**Arya:** omg, where are you even getting this

**Arya: **Rickon

**Queen Shireen:** He may have mentioned a thing or two.

**Arya:** Ok, when we see each other, we are definitely having a talk about my little brother

**Queen Shireen:** Look, all I’m saying is, Rickon said you seemed flustered talking about him and if the looks you sent each other at the bar are anything to go by, there is definitely some sexual tension there.

**Arya:** Wait what

**Arya:** He sent me a look at the bar??

**Queen Shireen:** Oh Arya, he was def sending you a Look™.

**Arya:** Nvm, you were super drunk, I don’t believe u

**Queen Shireen:** I was barely tipsy!

**Arya:** You thought he was your uncle!!

**Queen Shireen:** The resemblance really is uncanny…

**Queen Shireen:** Only he looked better than my uncle.

**Arya:** SHIREEN

**Queen Shireen:** Look, if Tywin Lannister can become Speaker of the House after marrying his literal fucking cousin, I can tell you my uncle is an objectively attractive man.

**Arya:** Tywin Lannister...married…his cousin...?

**Arya:** How did I not know this?

**Queen Shireen:** His FIRST cousin.

**Queen Shireen:** Incase that wasn’t clear.

**Queen Shireen:** Anyway, wanna hang tomorrow?

**Arya:** Can’t

**Arya:** I have to canvas then I’m meeting Meera and Bran for dinner

**Arya:** Coffee Sunday morning?

**Queen Shireen:** Sounds good!

\--

“Hey! You decided to try canvassing today, huh?”

Gendry startles at her voice from where he’s standing next to the office door. “Hey Arya.” He gives her a small, timid smile. “Figured I’d try it out. Are you going out too?”

“No, I don’t canvas on Sundays. I was just out having coffee with a friend earlier this morning and Sansa asked me to bring her some lunch on my way home.”

“Gotcha. So uh, for this whole canvassing thing,” he starts, casually, “do you guys usually go alone or in pairs...?”

“Usually alone, unless you don’t feel comfortable going by yourself. If that’s the case, they just ask that you and your partner take on more turf than you would if you’re alone.”

“Right. And you always go alone then?”

She sends him a confused look. “Yeah, pretty much. Sometimes I’ll go with a new person if they’re a little confused or worried.”

He nods his head at her casually—a little too casually--leaning a bit against the doorframe behind him.

She doesn’t want to assume but, “Do you want me to go with you?”

\--

“Oh my gods, Gendry you have got to smile more when doing this!” Arya laughs at his scowling face.

“Look, that last guy was a total asshole don’t deny it.”

“Okay fine, but what about the student before that? I thought you were going to give him a heart attack when you were asking if he ‘supports overturning Citizens United or not’?”

“What’s wrong with asking that?!”

“Well, first off, Margaery is running at the state level, so she doesn’t have much power over that.”

He looks a little sheepish. “Okay, maybe I got a little carried away with that one. The kid wasn’t giving me much to work with though!”

\--

“Okay, go on then, what about that one.”

“Hmm, let’s see. There’s a minivan parked in the driveway, so they likely have kids, two, maybe three.”

“Yeah, but you can also see a swing set in the backyard from here, so that’s obvious.”

“Shhh. The minivan has a faded Riverlands for Robert sticker, and he was a fairly moderate president, but his own party hated him by the end of his second term.” She pretends to think on it, tapping her chin with her finger. “Still, I’m going Republican.”

“Alright let’s check.” Gendry opens up the voter profile and barks out a laugh.

“What, what is it?”

“Jeyne Rivers, Republican—”

“Told you so!”

“_And_ Garth Rivers, Democrat.”

“Damn.”

“And here I was, thinking I had an expert showing me around.” She gives him a light shove and a roll of her eyes.

“I’ll let you take the lead on this one then.”

\--

“Four siblings?”

“Five actually. I have a half-brother, Jon. Do you have any siblings?”

“Nah, it’s just me as far as I know.”

“As far as you know?”

“My dad skipped out on my mom before I was born. Who knows if he had more kids.”

Arya can see his anger in the way his jaw clenches. Reaching out to touch his arm and stop them for a minute, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He just shrugs. “Don’t be.”

\--

“Does it always get this hot canvassing? I thought the weather was meant to be nice today.”

“You should try doing it in July. People are already reluctant to speak to you about politics—nobody wants to do it when you show up on their doorstep sweating and smelling.”

She grabs her water bottle from her pack, taking a big gulp. “Rule number one: always stay hydrated.”

\--

“So, do you think you’ll stick with canvassing?” They’ve turned in extra campaign literature back into the office and are walking to their respective cars.

Gendry seems to wince a bit. “It was fun doing it with you, I enjoyed it…”

“But?”

“But, I’m not sure I have the patience to go off and do that on my own.”

“I could always go with you.” Shit, what is she saying?

“Really? Don’t you only canvas on Saturdays?” He looks a bit hopeful.

Don’t say it, don’t say it, she thinks. “I can move some stuff around, switch to Sundays.” A hint of a smile appears on his face. “We’ll have to hit more houses since we’re partnered up though.”

He shuffles a bit where he’s standing. “That’s fine with me.” They’re both silent for a second, just staring at each other from where they stand. “Maybe,” he begins slowly, “we should exchange numbers? In case one of us can’t make it or something.”

Arya tries to keep a grin from showing on her face at that. Adopting a more serious look, “Right, of course. That way we can, um, plan accordingly.”

“Exactly.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, handing it to her while she does the same.

When they’ve both gotten their phones back, he says, “Will you be phonebanking this week?”

“It depends on when I can leave work, so maybe.”

“Right. Well um, I’ll see you next weekend at least then?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “You will.”

Heading toward her own car while Gendry does the same, she’s not sure if it’s butterflies in her stomach, or just hunger from not having had lunch yet.

\--

**Arya:** I am in deep shit

**Queen Shireen:** With what?

**Arya: **Gendry

**Queen Shireen:** Who??

**Arya:** ur uncle

\--

Queen Shireen added you to the chat “Uncle Renly 2.0”

**Meera (W)eed:** Wtf is with the chat name Shireen?

**Arya:** omfg, pls stop

**Queen Shireen:** Arya is trying to bag a man that looks like my Uncle Renly, hence Uncle Renly 2.0 (The Straight Addition).

**Meera (W)eed:** Oh, is he your really hot uncle?

**Arya:** How does everyone know this uncle but me??

**Queen Shireen:** I honestly have no clue.

**Queen Shireen:** Anyway, as Arya has just so subtly admitted to me that she is in, and I quote, “deep shit” about this guy.

**Arya:** I never said

**Meera (W)eed:** Aww, Arya

**Arya:** anything about liking him!!

**Meera (W)eed:** You haven’t seen anyone since Ned right?

**Queen Shireen:** @Arya: the lie detector test has found that that is……..a lie.

**Arya:** Yes

**Arya:** Oh, shut up Shireen

**Arya:** I barely know him

**Queen Shireen:** Okay but at the very least you’re attracted to him, yes?

**Meera W(eed):** Wait, how did you meet him?

**Arya:** I spoke to him about Margaery’s campaign and now he’s volunteering

**Arya:** We canvassed together today

**Queen Shireen:** What??

**Queen Shireen:** I just saw you like

**Queen Shireen:** 10 hours ago, you said you weren’t canvassing today!!

**Arya:** He didn’t want to go alone so I went with him

**Queen Shireen:** Likely story.

**Meera (W)eed:** Wait are you just looking to fuck him, or do you want to date him?

**Meera (W)eed:** Because if it’s the first one

**Meera (W)eed:** I’d wait until after he votes for Margaery

**Queen Shireen:** That is a good point Meera. Did you hear that Arya?

**Arya:** u guys are terrible

**Meera (W)eed:** On a more serious note, do you actually like this guy?

**Meera (W)eed:** Be honest

**Arya:** Idk

**Arya:** I mean, he was kind of a dick the first two times I spoke to him

**Arya:** but when he showed up to the office to volunteer, it’s like he’d done a complete 180

**Queen Shireen:** Go on…

**Arya:** Fine, yes, he’s really good looking

**Arya:** And pretty fun to talk to

**Arya:** So maybe?

**Arya:** Too early to tell, honestly

**Meera (W)eed:** Then I’d just say take the time to get to know him better

**Meera (W)eed:** Maybe something will come of it

**Queen Shireen:** Yeah, if political dramas have taught me anything, it’s that someone will inevitably hook up in the campaign office.

Arya Stark has left the chat “Uncle Renly 2.0”

\--

**Gendry Waters:** Hey Arya, it’s Gendry

**Gendry Waters:** I just got off work and was going to head into the office. Are you going tonight?

**Arya:** Yeah, hey! I’m already here

**Arya:** Sansa ordered everyone a bunch of pizza, but I’d hurry if you want a slice

\--

Arya’s nibbling on her third piece of pizza while watching Gendry make his way through calls.

“That’s great. And would you be interested in volunteering for the campaign?” He’s looking really good tonight, still in his shop uniform. The top two buttons are undone, and the crowded front room has brought the temperature up, creating a sheen of sweat on his upper chest.

“Arya?”

She shakes her head, snapping it up to his face and away from where she was certainly_ not_ staring at his chest.

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

“I said, do you want another drink? I’m going to take a break and get one.” He looks amused.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

When he returns with his drink and sits down, she’s getting ready to call up the next voter.

“It’s almost October,” she muses.

“Yeah, just a few days now.”

“It’s going to get really hectic here soon.”

He gives her a wry smile. “You mean it isn’t already?”

“If you think Sansa looks stressed now, just wait until we hit the final stretch. It won’t be pretty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would anti-capitalist Gendry have an iPhone? probably not but i just needed him to send an email that said "Sent from my iPhone)
> 
> cutting turf: this is plotting out areas of a district to canvass. you might just choose a certain amount of ground to cover or, depending on what software you use, you can cut turf that gives you houses within an area that have all women aged 30-45 who vote independent, or all young adults within an area who consistently vote, etc. in order to reach specific demographics you feel your campaign needs to work on  
appropriations: long story short, the government passes appropriations bills that basically say where government funds will be allocated (departments, agencies, and programs). state governments also come up with appropriations bills that make up the state budget  
political action committees (or PACs): campaign finance is a very messy (and interesting) topic, but basically a PAC pools together donations from their members to be given to a political campaign. there are many rules on what constitutes a PAC and how much they're allowed to spend. there are PACs formed for all sorts of ideologies and companies, ranging from gun rights (the NRA) to banking (American Express)  
SuperPACs: PACs on steroids. they don't make donations to candidates or parties, but they make independent expenditures (run ads, send mailers) and have no spending limits, which i think gendry would find very problematic. i'm going to be entirely honest though and admit that i dont actually know if SuperPACs can/do work at the state level? i know they're restricted federally but i don't know if they do anything at the state level to where joffrey would actually have a SuperPAC supporting him  
grassroots: a grassroots movement is considered a bottom-up movement. community members are encouraged to participate in order to make change. self-organization is a big thing and social media has been used a lot recently to highlight grassroots movements (like with BlackLivesMatter and the #MeToo movement). for campaigns, you're typically looking at those with not a lot of money to blow, who rely heavily on community support. Bernie Sanders' 2016 presidential campaign is considered grassroots   
in session: when the Senate and House are in session it means they are formally meeting. you can google the House or Senate calendar to get the gist of what their schedules are like  
Speaker of the House: this is the leader of the House of Representatives. they are elected at the beginning of a new Congress by a roll call vote among members. members don't have to vote for someone from their party, but that's generally how it goes, meaning the Speaker will be someone from the majority party. they are third in line for the presidency if something happens, behind the Vice President. they have....many functions, i recommend looking into it if interested. the current Speaker is Nancy Pelosi and before her (when Republicans held the majority in the House) it was Paul Ryan.   
Citizens United: Citizens United v. FEC was a controversial Supreme Court case in 2010 that said (since money had earlier been ruled as free speech in Buckley v. Valeo) corporations have a right to free speech and that limiting their ability to spend money is unconstitutional. this means that, while corporations may not donate directly to candidates, they may use their money to denounce or support them as they wish. i think gendry would for sure hate this


	3. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter just kept getting longer...and longer...and longer, lmao. I've been pretty busy irl and will continue to be in the next week or so (& ive also just seen It: Chapter Two and fallen into a reddie worm hole online lol) but I hope to have the next and final chapter up soon!  
in this chapter: Shireen isn't afraid to send the double(+) text; gendry gets both hot and soft for arya saying "fuck the 1%"

_October_

Gendry’s only been volunteering for about two weeks now, but she feels like she’s already seeing him more than she does some of her own coworkers. Not that she minds that.

While his sullen personality still comes out when they’re speaking with constituents or around some of the other volunteers, Arya has found him opening up to her more and showing her a different side of himself. Even when they find themselves getting in arguments about politics (Arya had thought she leaned pretty far to the left, but Gendry took it to a whole other level) it manages to excite her.

But while she’s found that Gendry coming out of his shell and spending time in the office with her has done wonders for his support for Margaery and their growing friendship, it’s causing a few small problems for her. Because Gendry is, as Shireen would put it, an “objectively attractive man.” And that, in combination with the relationship they had managed to build over the last few weeks, was making it seriously difficult to not jump him across the table when they’re making phone calls or while they’re out canvassing and he’s stopping to take a sip from his bottle, drops of water collecting along his lower lip.

She’s hoping the attraction is reciprocated. She’s definitely caught him staring at her when he thought she was focused on filling out voter feedback on her computer. As much as she’d love to find out if there’s anything there (she was telling the truth when she said she hadn’t been with anyone since Ned), it’s probably not the best idea to do it while they’re working on the campaign, if only to prevent distractions.

Well, more distractions than Gendry is already causing her.

It’s made infinitely more difficult to put her attraction to him on hold when he meets her at a rally about climate change being held at the plaza downtown Saturday evening. Margaery is scheduled to speak but Arya had already had plans to go. When she had mentioned Margaery would be attending to Gendry, all she had received in response was a nod and “Cool.” When she had casually mentioned that she also would be going, he’d shown decidedly more interest, asking, “When is it again? I’m thinking about stopping by.”

So now here she is, standing on the sidewalk waiting for Gendry to parallel park. When he begins striding toward her, she can’t help but notice that his shirt is absolutely too small for those arms of his.

“Hey,” he calls out, coming up to her side.

She smiles at him, attention shifting back up to his face. “Hey.”

They start heading toward the brick stage in the center of the plaza. “So, is Margaery the only one speaking here or…?”

“No. I think she’ll go on in about an hour, but there are people before and after her. They have a lot of people from the local community—teachers, farmers, people like that—talking about climate change. Margaery’s mostly here to talk about policy needed to make a difference and then, you know, kind of talk about how she would do those things if elected.”

“She’s here to ask for votes then?”

“Basically. But it’s also a way for her to speak to members of the community. She’s going to hang around the park after in case anyone wants to come up and speak to her about the campaign. Sansa’s around here somewhere with pamphlets.”

They’ve gathered near the back of the rapidly forming crowd that’s taking their seats on the lawn, when Gendry lets out a chuckle. Seeing her confused face, he explains, “Never would have expected I’d be coming to one of these things.”

She adopts a feigned look of disbelief, hand placed delicately to her chest. “Are you saying that you, Gendry Waters, liberal extremist, champion of the people, _don’t_ care about the environment?”

He sends her a scowl, but she can tell it’s not serious. “Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant.”

Laughing, she feels a small smile grow on her face. “Not really into activism, huh?”

“Guess I just never just saw the point in all of this,” he gestures to the people around them. They range in ages, ethnicities, and genders; some are decked out with signs and shirts calling for climate action while others are just in their normal weekend attire. “Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the power of protest. Just doesn’t seem big enough to actually make a difference though, does it?”

She nods at him. “I get what you’re saying. This isn’t one of those big rallies you see held in the center of King’s Landing. There’s no news coverage, this won’t get some trendy hashtag on Twitter.”

“Exactly. And, Margaery aside, who here is actually going to listen to these people? Do you see any politicians here? Lannister sure as fuck isn’t. The mayor? Any city council members?” His hands are gesturing wildly around them.

“I think that’s when you need to try to put it into perspective.”

He nods at her, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “Alright then, shoot.” She tries to hide her smile at that. This Gendry seems so vastly different than the one she’d met only a few weeks ago; the one who didn’t want to waste a second hearing what she had to say.

She gestures toward the ground and they both take their seats among the crowd.

“Obviously, those people aren’t going to come out, you’re right, they don’t care. One positive is that Margaery is here. Yes,” she concedes, “she is looking for supporters, but we know that she actually believes in climate change and wants to do something about it. Then you have to consider that there are some community leaders here. Union members, business owners—people who are listened to by politicians because of the lobbying power they have. And I know this isn’t a major turn out, but the place is filling up. The more people that show the more likely the speakers here are to reaching the ears of someone who might not yet be swayed into voting for someone like Margaery or for…let’s say supporting new sustainable initiatives to be brought up at the next city council meeting.” Gendry is nodding along as she speaks, all of his attention on her, even as she hears mic tests going on in the background. “This rally is first and foremost for the people. When the people start showing up—when you can get them to care about something, really care—that’s when you start seeing the numbers you need to make a difference. That’s when you get the votes you need to elect people like Margaery—people who believe in science and people who believe in protecting the environment.”

She lets out a gust of breath that had been building in her. There’s something in Gendry’s eyes—a spark maybe—as he looks at her. As he’s opening his mouth to speak, the clearing of a throat echoes out across the lawn. “Good evening everyone!”

Arya turns to face the stage where the speakers are standing. Every so often, she swears she can feel heat of Gendry’s eyes on her.

\--

Margaery has just walked off the stage when they decide to make their way to the back of the crowd and look for Sansa. Margaery’s campaign manager and other members of her team are probably here as well, but they figured they might as well see if Sansa needs any help handing out literature. The sun has just begun to set, but the crowd has continued to swell, and the occasional chant has managed to break out both onstage and among the people, making it difficult to speak to the person next to you.

They’re just breaking through the now-standing crowd and looking around for a flash of auburn hair when Arya sees a dark shadow hovering over her from behind, and feels a large hand clamp down on her shoulder.

“Stark,” a gruff voice barks out.

She feels herself cringing internally and sees confusion on Gendry’s face. Turning around, she’s met with the sight of Sandor Clegane. The owner of King’s Landing’s biggest printing shop, Clegane provides Margaery’s campaign with all of its printing needs. Which was to say, a lot. Signs, mailers, literature and more, it all goes through Sandor’s company. His older brother was known for working security for the Lannister family, so Arya had been wary when Sansa told her they had a contract with him. And those were her feelings before she had met him and had to deal with his sour attitude.

“Clegane,” she bites back.

“Where the fuck’s your sister, I need to talk to her about an upcoming order.”

She glares at him, shrugging his massive hand off of her. “How the hells should I know? Do I look like her keeper?”

He grunts in reply, elbowing his way past both her and Gendry and continuing to wander around the plaza. She rolls her eyes at his retreating form.

When she looks back at Gendry’s face though, a complaint about Clegane on the tip of her tongue, she’s met with what she’s learned is his thinking face—his forehead scrunched up, mouth a bit agape. Standing awkwardly near the edge of the now cheering crowd, she waits a moment for him to spit out what he’s thinking.

His eyebrows almost seem to meet in the middle, pulled together as they are, when he says, “Did that man just call you Stark?” Oh. That hadn’t been what she’d expected him to ask. How she knew that enormous man, yes. Maybe even why they were so hostile toward each other. But not that.

Before she can answer, “Stark as in Senator Stark? The chairman of the special committee that investigated Roose Bolton for tampering with evidence that proved his son was the Long Lake Killer?”

Arya winces. She had been pretty young when her father had been assigned to that committee, investigating to see if Roose Bolton, a former acquaintance of their family, was covering for his son’s perverse hobby. The public had been fascinated by the case. Roose Bolton had never been a charming man or even a well-liked man, but he held a certain gravitas that made him a respected FBI Director during President Baratheon’s two terms. For people to find out that his son was a serial killer and then, later, that Bolton had known about it…well her father’s name had been in the papers a lot those days, and her family hadn’t quite been able to escape the publicity either. “You know, for someone not too involved in the political process, you sure know a lot about my father.”

His eyes widen. “Eddard Stark is your _father_?”

Feeling a bit defensive, “Is there a problem with that?”

Gendry looks at her a minute, seeming to grapple with the question. “No. No, it just caught me off guard is all. Guess I never thought to ask you your last name.”

She nods, heading off in search of Sansa, not waiting to see if he’s keeping up.

She can feel his presence at her side, but she’s too busy scanning the area for her sister to know if he’s got that look of his trained at her. The one that speaks of privilege and the one percent. They may have become fast friends, but that was _after_ they’d argued about politicians and whose interests they have in mind. And yeah, she’d somehow managed to convince him that Margaery wasn’t like that (or at least she thinks she has), but she has no clue how he’d feel knowing just how many politicians she is related to, or how many she has met through her father, brother, and even her maternal grandfather. She’s not ready for him finding out to ruin what they may or may not have at the moment.

She’s just spotted Sansa a few yards to her right, standing next to Margaery as she speaks to an older man, and begins heading in their direction.

Following alongside her still, “Didn’t your brother just get elected recently? Was it Jon?”

She’s spoken about Jon to him more than Robb, and Robb’s a junior Senator at that (as the press so often likes to remind him), so she’s not surprised he got them confused. “No, Robb. Jon’s in the military.”

He looks ready to ask another question when Sansa and Margaery spot them, the older gentleman now gone, leaving them standing on their own. They’re both wearing campaign t-shirts and have campaign literature in their hands. 

“Arya, it’s so wonderful you could make it,” the brunette cries out to her, enveloping her in a hug once they reach them. “I haven’t seen you around the office lately, but Sansa tells me you’re always stopping by to help out. Thank you so much, you have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

She gives Margaery a warm smile. Unlike some of Sansa’s other friends, Margaery had always been nothing but nice to her. They had even found that they share a love for horseback riding and the outdoors. “The only thanks I need will be you winning your election. Joffrey Lannister’s face already looks like an ass, I can only imagine how much worse it’ll be when he finds out he’s lost,” she teases.

“Arya,” Sansa scolds, “don’t be so crass.” Margaery lets out a tinkling laugh while Arya rolls her eyes at her sister. She can hear Gendry shuffling behind her and looks back to see him with his hands in his pockets, looking noticeably uncomfortable.

Nodding her head in his direction, “Margaery, this is Gendry Waters, Gendry this is Margaery. Gendry’s been volunteering for your campaign.”

Sansa decides to chime in, smiling widely at Margaery. “Gendry has been coming into the office on weeknights to phonebank with Arya and they’ve been canvassing together on Sundays.” Arya sends Sansa a questioning look at her unnecessary addition, but her sister ignores it.

Arya steps away, no longer acting as Gendry’s human shield, and Margaery reaches forward to shake his hand. “Thank you so much for your support Gendry! How long have you lived in King’s Landing?”

Arya can tell he’s taken aback by Margaery’s questioning, but he shakes it off quickly and clears his throat. “My whole life.”

“Oh, wow! A lot of people that you meet here are transplants. And what do you do for work?”

“I’m an auto mechanic.” His eyes are flitting around a bit, taking in the people moving around them rather than Margaery directly in front of him. She doesn’t blame him, Margaery’s a beautiful and smart woman and can be quite intimidating.

“Oh, Sansa isn’t that wonderful!” she exclaims, turning toward Sansa. As she faces Gendry again, “I was just telling Sansa how I wish more people I’ve met here this evening were involved in a trade. I’m very pro-union but up until now I’ve mostly spoken to just union leaders. Would you mind speaking with me for a moment about your job?”

Gendry looks dumbfounded. “Umm, sure?”

“Wonderful,” Margaery exclaims, leading him off to the side a bit, leaving the two sisters standing together.

Arya’s watching them both, Margaery all bubbling energy, Gendry doing his best to not look too awkward.

“Did you come here together?” comes her sister’s questioning voice. Sansa’s staring at her, a peculiar look on her face.

“No. We just met up before the start.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs. They both turn to look back at their friends. Margaery’s hand is placed lightly on Gendry’s upper arm and, to Arya’s surprise, he’s laughing at something she’s said. She hasn’t known the man long, but she’s never seen him so open around someone he’s only just met. As much as Arya hates the sour feeling of jealousy bubbling up within her, she can’t help thinking about what a lovely pair they make; Margaery with her smooth skin and radiant smile, Gendry with his gorgeous blue eyes and inky black hair.

Arya’s formative years hadn’t done the best number on her self-esteem. Growing up with her long face, typically northern features, and scrawny body, Arya had never thought herself the prettiest. The constant teasing from Sansa and her friends hadn’t done much to help either. Though she had filled out with age, she had never gotten the soft, sensual curves that a woman like Margaery possessed, and some days, when she got a little too muddy at work, a little too sweaty, she thought back to the teasing neighs that had followed her around as a child. The calls of “Arya Horseface” that would follow her.

No longer in the mood to watch Margaery and Gendry’s conversation, Arya makes to leave.

“Where are you going?” Sansa’s voice stops her.

Without looking back she says, “Home. I’ve got some things to do.” If Sansa replies, she doesn’t hear it, already walking at a brisk pace back to her car.

\--

**Gendry Waters: **Hey, did you leave..?

**Arya:** Yeah

**Arya:** Sorry, I had to head home

**Arya:** Had some things to do

**Gendry Waters:** Oh, ok

**Gendry Waters:** See you tomorrow (:

\--

**Arya:** Hey, hope I caught you in time

**Arya:** I woke up with a sore throat this morning, I don’t think I can make it to canvass

**Gendry Waters:** That’s ok

**Gendry Waters:** Do you want me to bring you anything?

**Arya:** No but thanks!

**Gendry Waters:** Ok, feel better soon

\--

Arya had debated with herself for nearly half an hour before finally sending the text to Gendry letting him know she was sick and couldn’t go canvassing. Truthfully, all she felt in her throat was a tickle, and that could likely be chalked up to allergies. But she’s been feeling all sorts of emotions since leaving the rally last night—confusion, trepidation, jealousy—and wasn’t exactly up to spending half of her day with the source of those feelings.

It wasn’t like she could just spend the next month ignoring Gendry. She had brought him onto the campaign and she really liked him. She was just confused at how strongly she seemed to like him. Arya had known jealousy in her life before, it just wasn’t usually aimed at another woman over a guy. Especially a woman she liked as much as Margaery.

So, she wasn’t going to ignore him for the next month. Maybe just for the next few days while she sorted out her feelings.

\--

She’s spent all day working in her garden, de-weeding, watering, trimming bushes, and finally heads inside as the sun is beginning to set. When she gets in, she goes straight into the shower, washing the day’s sweat and grime from her skin. After getting dressed and heating up some leftovers, she finally sits down to eat, checking her phone to see if she’s missed any calls or texts while she’s been outside.

There’s the usual barrage from Shireen, one message from Sansa and Bran each, and, to her surprise, a few recent ones from Robb.

Despite Robb spending most of his time in King’s Landing when the Senate is in session, Arya doesn’t see or talk to him too much. His schedule keeps him busy for most of the day and night—she isn’t sure how he runs on so few hours of sleep. She usually convinces him to make time to get lunch or dinner with her and Sansa once every month or month and a half, but she’s generally the one asking him to go out. Instead she looks at her phone and sees he’s decided to take some initiative.

**Robb:** Hello

**Robb:** Guess who has a fly in day 2morrow

**Robb:** Your favorite Senator

**Arya:** Wow, I didn’t know dad came out of retirement

**Robb:** Haha

**Robb:** So funny

**Robb:** My flight should get in in the afternoon

**Robb:** Let’s meet for dinner

**Arya:** With Sansa?

**Robb:** No, I just saw you two + Rickon a few weeks ago. Just us

**Arya:** Is everything okay???

**Robb:** Yes

**Robb:** Can’t a guy just get dinner with his one of his two favorite sisters??

**Arya:** Ffs Robb

**Arya:** Yes, but we’re getting Italian at that place dad used to take us to because I want their stuffed shells

**Arya:** And you’re paying

**Robb:** Deal

**Robb:** Do you want me to pick you up in my car?

**Arya:** No, I’ll meet you there. Text me when your flight gets in and lmk what time to meet u

**Arya:** I should get off work around 5

\--

When Arya’s dad had been in the Senate, she and her siblings lived up North with their mother. Their father had insisted that they grow up in as normal of an environment as possible, and only let them visit the capital occasionally. Her dad was in King’s Landing for only as much time as was necessary, flying home as soon as he could to spend time with his family while carrying out his duties to the North. For the most part, Arya had liked that their dad allowed them to be raised in the North and away from the rat race of the capital. If she hadn’t had the chance at a coveted position at the Kingswood State Park, she probably would still be living in the North with her parents, Bran, and Rickon. Even when visiting the capital as a child, she really only cared about the stolen moments with her father, not the city. Some of these fondest memories were of him taking her, her brothers, and sister to a whole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant just a few blocks from his Senate building late at night. The restaurant was open late, which worked with her dad’s busy schedule. She remembers staying up late to wait for him, going as far as to eating only snacks throughout the day so she could gorge herself on their stuffed shells. Arya would admit she’s a good cook but try as she might she can never replicate the cheesy goodness of those shells. When her father visits his kids in the capital, Arya insists that they still go there late at night, but she won’t waste any opportunity to go, even if it is just with Robb.

She pulls up to the restaurant around 8, seeing Robb has texted her that he’s already inside. Giving a wave to the hostess that’s been working there since she was a kid, she strides through the dining room and to the Stark family’s favorite corner booth.

Robb is looking down at his phone, fingers tapping over the screen rapidly. When she plops down beside him, he gives a little jump, dropping his phone on the table with a clatter.

Hand to his heart, “You scared the shit out of me Arya.” She just grins in return.

“How was your flight?” He fiddles with the expensive watch on his wrist. Other than the watch, he’s dressed like any other average white man in his 30s; blue jeans and a t-shirt, baseball cap on his head. The restaurant isn’t exactly empty, but it’s unlikely anyone around them would realize a Senator was in there, and they probably wouldn’t care if they did.

“Dry,” is his reply. “Do you already know what you’re going to order then?”

“Of course.” He signals the waiter over and they place their orders.

They make small talk about things back North, where he’s just come from, and even start reminiscing on their past trips to this restaurant with their dad. They’ve been talking about how her job is going when their food arrives, steam wafting from her stuffed shells and his gnocchi. She’s leaning forward and blowing on her first forkful of food when she notices Robb is still sitting back, hands in his lap.

She lets her fork drop back onto her plate with a bit of disappointment, making a light clinking sound. “Alright, what’s up? Just get it out.”

Taking a deep breath, “I’m going to ask Talisa to marry me.”

Arya can feel the shock on her face. Robb had been seeing Talisa for the last year. A doctor in the Riverlands, they had met when she was testifying before the Health Committee. She knew Robb liked her—the family had even met her—Arya just didn’t know they were serious enough that he was thinking about marriage. Especially considering both of their busy jobs and that she lived in the Riverlands.

“Wow,” is what she says instead. “Have you told Jon and Theon already?”

“Yes. I’m telling you next because I know you’ll be honest with me.” He seems to sense her hesitation. “Just tell me what you think Arya.”

She nods, wetting her lips. “With the lives you live…do you think a marriage would be possible?” Seeing the frown on his face, she quickly adds, “I just mean, you’re both very busy and you don’t live in the same place. Would she be willing to relocate?”

“I don’t know, Arya. All I know is how I feel about her. If she wants to move North, great, that’s wonderful. If not…well, I only have four more years left before reelection…” he trails off.

Arya’s mouth drops open in shock. “Robb, are you saying you wouldn’t run again if she doesn’t want to leave the Riverlands?”

“If she wants to stay there, I would be willing to move for her. I’m still young—I always have the option of waiting a few years then running again in the Riverlands.”

Arya sits quietly for a moment, taking in everything her brother has just said. “You really love her, huh?”

“More than anything,” he says, a genuine smile on his face. “I’m ready for our relationship to progress and I think marriage is the next step. I think, if you love someone, why wait? I would rather try and fail than never take the step because I’m too scared.”

Reaching back for her fork, she starts in on her food. After a bite, “Then if that’s what you really think, go for it.”

Robb breaks out into a smile. “You think so?”

Still seeing a bit of hesitation in his eyes despite the smile, “Yes Rob!” She laughs. “Let me know what she says as soon as you do.”

“Thank you, Arya.”

It’s quite for a moment as Robb begins eating his own food and she thinks about what he’s just said. She supposes it is quite brave of Robb to plow head-first into this the way he is with no guarantees. She supposes she can respect that in a way, though she’d hate for him to have to derail his Senate dreams. Wanting to fill the silence and return the jovial attitude from before, she shakes off these thoughts.

“So,” around another mouthful of shell, “do you think this place caters weddings?”

\--

Their meals eaten and paid for, Arya and Robb head outside to say their goodbyes. Robb is walking her to her car when Arya stops in her tracks, spotting a familiar silhouette coming out of the Chinese restaurant across the street. Squinting in the dim outdoor lighting, Arya manages to make out Gendry’s face. He’s looking straight at her, having just noticed her as well. She can feel Robb staring at her in confusion, wondering why they’re stopped outside of the restaurant, but she’s too busy watching as Gendry looks both ways before crossing the street over to her, a bag of takeout in his hands.

When he’s just a few feet away from them, Robb seems to have finally noticed a man is headed their way, as he shifts to angle himself slightly in front of Arya. Arya’s too frozen in place to send so much as a scowl Robb’s way.

“Can we help you sir?” Robb asks, clearly worried that Gendry might attack them with his bag of fried rice and eggrolls.

Gendry ignores Robb’s question, eyes focused on Arya. “Hi,” he says, his eyebrows furrowed.

She somehow manages to reply with more than a squeak. “Hi.”

His lips are pursed for a moment before he says, “So, you’re feeling better today?” It sounds less like a question and more like an accusation.

Before she can so much as come up with a lie, Robb swoops in, all concern. “Arya, you aren’t feeling well? Why didn’t you tell me, we could have rescheduled dinner?”

Arya’s been told many times that she’s a good liar. You sort of have to be when your family is in politics and you get asked questions about them. She usually doesn’t find it very difficult to lie either, but in this moment, under Gendry’s scrutinizing gaze, she finds herself feeling guilty for now having to lie to him twice in as many days.

Answering both his and Robb’s questions, “I started feeling better after a nap yesterday.”

Gendry just stares at her for a moment, before nodding slowly at the answer. “Right. I’ll see you around then.”

He’s already turning to go when she calls after him, “At the office?”

He hesitates, back turned to her. “Sure.”

Watching him walk back across the street, a frown on her lips, she’s nearly forgotten Robb is still next to her until he clears his throat. Speaking softly, he says, “I’ve got to get going. Early morning tomorrow…” he trails off awkwardly. She’s thankful he’s not questioning the encounter with Gendry, though she’s sure he’ll mention it to at least one of their siblings.

She shakes her head to clear it. “Right, sorry.” Giving him a hug, they say their goodbyes, Arya offering a quick good luck to him, and walk to their respective cars.

\--

Work on Tuesday drags by. Arya finds her job both enjoyable and rewarding, but she hadn’t been able to sleep much—tossing and turning as she wondered how much she might have screwed things up with Gendry--and her boss had her doing paperwork for much of the day. When she gets a text from an old college friend who’s in the city for the night, asking to meet up for drinks, she finds herself declining, in too much of a slump to make the effort.

She knows she probably shouldn’t be this torn up about the situation—and usually she wouldn’t be. Arya has always been incredibly level-headed when it comes to men. There was just something about Gendry. They had only known each other for a small amount of time, but the more she got to know him, the more time she wanted to spend with him. He’s funny, and nice. Grumpy and hot-headed. Passionate and intelligent. He doesn’t open up about his past much, but when he does, she finds herself wanting to know more. Then of course there’s the fact that she finds him insanely attractive.

Regardless of whether he’d be interested in pursuing more with her, she’s still torn up that she might have messed up a burgeoning friendship. By the end of the day, she’s resolved to speak to him and clear things up the best she can.

\--

She stays in the campaign office until 8:30, all other volunteers long gone, but he never shows.

\--

**Queen Shireen:** Call me.

**Queen Shireen:** I know you have your lunch break right now. Call me.

**Arya:** I’m eating

**Queen Shireen:** You have two hands. Pick up the phone with one.

**Arya:** Oh, would you look at that, my boss wants me to do paperwork during my lunch break

**Queen Shireen:** You can’t ignore me forever!

**Queen Shireen:** I know you’ve been in a funk over something the last few days.

**Queen Shireen:** Is it your man?

**Queen Shireen:** (What’s his name again? That’d be pretty useful to know.)

**Queen Shireen**: Or is it work?

**Queen Shireen:** Sansa?

**Queen Shireen:** You did just have dinner with Robb.

**Queen Shireen:** Was is it something he said?

**Queen Shireen:** A nagging message he relayed from your mother?

**Arya:** Lunch break’s over, gotta go, bye

**Queen Shireen:** Don’t make me wait on your doorstep until you get home from work!

\--

Knowing Shireen is completely serious about waiting on her doorstep, she decides it’s time to bite the bullet and contact Gendry. You know, like a real adult.

**Arya:** Hey! Haven’t seen you around the last few days. Are you busy after work? Want to grab a beer?

**Gendry Waters:** You’re not going to the office tonight?

**Arya:** Nah, they have enough volunteers

**Gendry Waters:** Ok, sure.

**Gendry Waters:** Where at?

After texting him the address to Hot Pie’s and agreeing on a time to meet, Arya puts her phone away. She’s relieved over his answer but can’t help feeling anxious over what she’s going to say. She’s not really interested in telling him the truth. She isn’t quite sure, “Yeah, sorry, I got really jealous seeing you talking to my really beautiful friend who we both happen to be helping out, so I bailed on you not once, but twice,” would sound totally sane to him. Then again, she also doesn’t want to lie even more and create a bigger problem.

She opens the door and heads back outside to tackle her next task at work, deciding to push it to the back of her mind for the day and wing it when the time comes.

\--

For a Wednesday night, Hot Pie’s bar is relatively busy. She had to stay a little late at work and rushes straight over to the bar after. When she enters, she looks around for Gendry but comes up short. He must be running late too. Arya spots some open stools at the bar and decides to settle there. Ordering from one of the bartenders working tonight, she’s just about to send Gendry a text letting him know she’s here when, somehow around the clamor of the bar, she hears the door opening with its telltale creak. Glancing back to see who’s just come in, she feels her heartbeat pick up when she’s met with the sight of Gendry.

He’s obviously stopped at home before coming here. He’s wearing a dark blue t-shirt and light wash jeans, his hair damp from the shower. She glances down at her mud splattered pants and work boots and suddenly feels self-conscious. Looking back up, she sees he’s spotted her and is headed her way, a decidedly neutral expression on his face, quite unlike the usual smile she’s used to him greeting her with.

Taking a quick gulp of her drink the bartender has set down, she turns to face him when he settles in on the barstool next to her.

She sends him a timid smile. “Hi.”

He grunts a greeting in return, flagging down the bartender to give him his order, not sparing her a glance. Arya can feel a frown tugging at her lips.

Deciding to just get on with it, “Look, about this weekend—”

He whirls around on his stool quickly to face her, cutting her off. “I’m gonna stop you right there.” She’s taken aback at his interruption. “I’m a little pissed that you think so little of me.”

Okay, now she’s confused. “What?”

“I know you’ve been avoiding me because I found out your last name.” She was not expecting that. Had Gendry just unknowingly given her an out? “And okay, maybe I wasn’t the most welcoming when we first met.” She lets out a scoff but tries to play it off as a cough when he sends a glare her way. “But if you had just told me we could have talked about it.” He takes another pull of his drink and sits for a minute quietly. Just when Arya has decided she’s meant to say something, “I’m not stupid you know.”

She blinks in surprise. “I don’t think you’re—”

He cuts her off again, a hand raised in the air. “Just, let me say this okay?” She nods, sitting back quietly. “I do keep up with some of the news, alright? Just because I don’t work some fancy job or I don’t vote in every election, that doesn’t mean I’m not educated or don’t know how to read a fucking newspaper, yeah? So I know some stuff about your dad.” He takes another long sip of his beer, nearly emptying it, as if he needs the liquid courage. “And it is good stuff, mind you. But even if it wasn’t, do you really think I’d judge you for the actions of your father, especially after we’ve become friends? Hell, I don’t even know who my father was, he could be as bad as Roose Bolton for all I know.” He shakes his head, a bitter look on his face.

Arya is surprised at the turn the conversation had taken so quickly. She had expected she would have had to confess that it was jealousy that made her push him away. She could set the record straight now, or she could tackle what he’s just said. Sensing that what he’s admitted has been weighing on his mind for awhile now, she decides to go with the latter. She’ll have time to deal with her feelings later.

Thinking on her words for a moment, she begins slowly. “You’re right.” He nods to himself in agreement, eyes trained on his bottle. “I was worried what you would think about me being a Stark. But I didn’t purposely withhold it from you or anything. It just didn’t come up. And when it did, I’ll admit I was a bit defensive.” That wasn’t a lie, she had been worried when he found out. “But I definitely don’t think you’re stupid Gendry. Far from it actually. And I definitely don’t think that your job means you’re less educated than I am.”

He’s looking at her now, a calmer look on his face than before as he reads her expression. “Okay, now that we both know we aren’t judging each other on things we can’t change,” he signals over the bartender, way more quickly than Arya had ever managed to in this place, “they’ve got really good fries here, let’s get some.”

She grins at that, happy for him to have believed her words. “You’ve been here before,” she states.

“Oh yeah. I know a lot of the guys that work here.”

After he places the order, they make small talk about their workdays. It’s not long into the conversation, however, that she brings up something that’s been on her mind since he confronted her. “Not to keep bringing it up,” his eyebrow quirks up, “but how did you know I was lying to avoid you?” She knows she hadn’t done the best job, but half of the incident was over text for gods sake. Usually only Jon could manage to sus out her lies.

Their basket is placed in front of them and he pops a fry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. She can’t help the way her eyes follow the movement to his mouth. “Dunno,” he finally says. “Guess I could just tell.”

She nods, deciding she’ll just have to accept that he’s managed to figure out a tell she didn’t know she had.

She starts eating some of the fries herself—happy to see they’re Hot Pie’s perfect level of crispiness—and starts to make conversation. “Are you planning to early vote?”

He gives her confused look. “Oh gods, don’t tell me that after all of this you still don’t plan on voting for Margaery?”

He laughs. “No, it’s not that. I actually didn’t know you could vote early.”

“Oh yeah, you can vote up to a week and a half before election day here. We should try to go together,” she suggests in what she hopes is a casual manner.

“Don’t we have to live in the same precinct for that?”

“Nah,” she replies, picking up another fry. “If you vote early you can go to any early voting location in the district.”

He smiles. “Yeah, we should go together then.” She can’t deny the butterflies that form in her stomach at the way he smiles at her.

\--

They’re two baskets of fries and a few beers each in when Gendry questions her about who she was at dinner with the other night.

“Oh, that was my brother, Robb. He had some free time Monday night and wanted to get dinner.”

“Right, okay, your brother,” he repeats. She sends him a curious look at the way he draws it out. “So, is your whole family really into politics?”

“Umm, not all. Obviously, my dad was a Senator and Robb always kind of modeled himself after him. It was pretty obvious once he decided to go to law school that’s he’d continue trying to follow in Dad’s footsteps. Then I have a few extended family members that were in office.”

“And Jon’s in the military.”

“Right,” she nods. “My brother Bran helped with graphic design work on Robb’s first campaign, but he hasn’t been involved since, even though my mother is always asking him to help out. Then my youngest brother Rickon works up in Skagos at the preserve. He couldn’t be less interested in politics.”

“And you never wanted to get into it?”

She can’t help but laugh at that. “Not at all. I really like politics, surprisingly, but I could never be a politician.”

“Same here,” Gendry replies.

She’s reaching for the last fries, thinking more on her experiences since Robb decided to run all those years ago. “I think everyone should be as involved as possible. Help make the change you want to see and all that. But it’s not always realistic, I get that. There is a lot of privilege in politics.”

Gendry is nodding at her enthusiastically, urging her on. “I understand that, just from my upbringing alone, I have been up close to the political process. I have close family in politics, I received a good education growing up—I know what’s going on, you know? There are so many people who don’t know much about our government or politics in general who aren’t exactly in the position to change that.”

“And you don’t think it’s up to them to educate themselves?” he asks, a glint in his eyes that she recognizes means he’s up for debate should she say something he disagrees with. “I mean, you did really push me into looking into Margaery.”

She rolls her eyes in return. “If you have the resources at your disposal, then yes, you should try to be as knowledgeable as possible because what your representatives are doing will affect you. Maybe not today or tomorrow, maybe not with this bill or that one, but eventually something they do will impact your life. It’s so important that people vote for the person who will be acting in their best interests. There’s this quote that I think about sums it up that I really like. ‘We do not have government by the majority. We have government by the majority who participate.’ Or something like that,” she waves her hand. “And it’s true isn’t it? If the only people who bother voting are the assholes who support guys like Lannister—someone wildly unpopular who we know isn’t actually supported by the majority of the district--then it’s not really the majority, is it? It’s the majority of those who actually bother participating.”

Gendry’s brow is furrowed. “But it’s not like everyone has disposable time to give to politics. People have work and families and other life obligations. Not everyone can just take the time to work on all of the campaigns they want.” She can hear the heat behind his words, knows, whether intentionally or not, they’re a jab at her. As if realizes what he’s implied immediately after saying it, he hurriedly adds, “I’m not trying to attack you, I just mean—”

She shrugs him off. “Don’t worry, I get it. I am privileged and that allows me to be part of the group that participates. Politics in Westeros is easier to get into if you have money, that’s a fact. Yes, it’s finally changing, we’re finally seeing a surge in candidates running who _aren’t _already rich and who do have the people in mind, but it’s still a pretty fucked up system that typically is in favor of the wealthy. Voting is fucked up too. I know that lower income people, people who have to work late or work multiple jobs and just don’t have the time to take off work and vote, are less likely to be involved. They don’t always have weekends to give up to canvass or time after work to phonebank. Some of them just plain don’t have the time to keep up with elections at all.”

She’s a bit embarrassed by her rant, though she believes it wholeheartedly. She’s thought a lot about it over the years as she’s volunteered on campaigns. After speaking to people who didn’t know about upcoming elections or said they didn’t have time to vote. People like Gendry who were so disillusioned with the system and with their politicians, that they refused to vote out of cynicism or even as a form of protest.

As she looks at Gendry and meets his eyes though, she realizes she needn’t be embarrassed. He’s staring right at her, lips slightly parted, a soft look on his face. His eyes shine a bit in the dim bar lighting as he says, “Right. It’s the system that’s fucked up, not the people.”

He clears his throat, looks prepared to say something more, when the slamming of two hands down on the bar in front of them startles them both. Turning to look at who’s just interrupted them, she’s greeted by the smiling face of Hot Pie.

“Gendry! Arry! What are you two doing here? You know each other?”

“You know Hot Pie?”

“Arry?”

The three of them look between each other, Hot Pie still grinning, Arya and Gendry looking amused.

“Of course I know you both,” he says simply, as if it requires no explanation. “How do you guys know each other?”

“We’re both working on Margaery Tyrell’s campaign,” she answers for them.

Hot Pie wears a face of surprise, looking at Gendry. “You? Working on a political campaign? Don’t you have to like, talk to people and stuff like that? Not exactly your strong suit Gendry,” he teases.

“Fuck off,” Gendry says, voice laced with a bit of humor.

“Aww,” Hot Pie cries out, looking at the space of bar in front of them where their empty baskets of fries have collected. “You should’ve told me you guys were coming, I could have snuck you out some free fries.”

She smiles. “It’s okay Hot Pie, you can make it up to us next time.” She’s too busy getting her phone out to check the time to see Gendry’s eyes on her when she says that. Seeing how late it is, she frowns, dreading having to get up for work tomorrow. She looks over to Gendry, “I’ve got to get going—work early in the morning. But thanks for meeting with me.”

“Yeah, of course, I’m glad we uh, cleared the air,” he stammers a bit.

She says goodbye to both Hot Pie and Gendry, assuring the latter that she’ll be phonebanking this week and canvassing on Sunday, before heading out to drive home.

\--

It’s the final Sunday of October, a little over a week before election day, and Arya and Gendry are taking their time canvassing. Ever since she left Hot Pie’s bar after meeting with him, she can’t seem to get that look of his out of her mind. The one that he had sent her after she went on about elections and voting. It seemed both soft and proud, almost like he was in awe.

Or maybe she was reading way too much into it.

Either way, she knows they only have a few more days of phonebanking and one more Sunday to canvass in November, but that one would be pretty crazy as election day would be on the Tuesday after. So maybe she was purposely taking her time reading off the details of the next voter they’d be speaking to and lingering at the houses of those who didn’t answer their doors. But, in her defense, Gendry also seemed to be doing the same.

They’ve just finished speaking to the last person on their list—an avid supporter of Margaery who was excited at the idea of phonebanking for her the last week before the election—when they make their way to her car and begin driving back to the office. The beginning of the ride is filled with a comfortable silence, both of them happy to just sit and enjoy the air-conditioned ride after being out in the sun for so long.

“Next Sunday is the last day to early vote and I know we both sometimes get off work pretty late during the week—do you want to go Sunday after canvassing?”

He startles over the break in silence, and Arya smiles upon realizing he’d been starting to doze off in his seat. He blinks slowly for a minute, processing what she’s said. “Yeah, that’d be great. Maybe we could get lunch or something after,” he suggests in a casual tone.

Arya turns her eyes back to the road, another smile tugging at her lips. “I’d like that.”

\--

When they enter the office, Arya isn’t surprised to see the front room empty. Sansa had increased just about everyone’s turf now that election day loomed near. She and Gendry may have taken their time, but they were still pretty quick canvassers even on a normal day compared to everyone else.

Gendry’s going to grab a bottle of water and a snack and Arya is about to sign both of them out on the volunteer list when she hears raised voices coming from a back room. They sound muffled, likely coming from behind a closed door, but she can hear the anger behind them. Looking at Gendry to see if he heard it too, she sees he’s too busy sorting through the assortment of snacks, shoving a few cookies into his mouth. Rolling her eyes, she begins walking toward the back. “Wherf ‘ou goin’?” comes his garbled voice. Shushing him, she continues walking until she’s right outside of the room Sansa had commandeered at the beginning of the campaign.

She can feel Gendry’s presence at her back as she carefully presses her ear to the door, but it’s dead silent now. She pulls back with a frown, debating just knocking, when the door is wrenched open and Margaery’s campaign manager hustles past, barely sparing them a glance.

Confused, Arya looks inside the now open door and sees Margaery and Sansa standing next to each other behind the desk. Sansa’s right arm is around Margaery’s shoulder, pulling her into her side, while they both look down at a laptop on the desk. Neither of them look up at her in the doorway (somehow, they haven’t been alerted to their presence by Gendry’s loud chewing) so she clears her throat to get their attention. Their heads both pop up at the same time and Arya sees Margaery’s eyes are glistening. Upon seeing them standing there she wipes at them quickly.

“Okay, what’s going on? I heard shouting and your manager just fucked off out of here real fast.”

Neither woman answers her, but she sees Sansa’s eyes flicker down toward the laptop quickly. She shuffles around trying to distract Arya from the movement, but she’s already seen it. Arya makes her way toward the laptop, batting away Sansa’s hands that try to pull it away, and looks down at the screen.

It seems to be opened up to some King’s Landing online newspaper she’s never heard of. At first glance the page seems flashy and Arya immediately assumes it’s some dumb gossip site hyping up Joffrey Lannister or something that’s gotten them upset. When she reads the main headline on the screen, however, she’s met with something entirely unexpected.

**Breaking: Heiress to Tyrell Fortune and State Senate Democratic Candidate Spotted Snuggling Up with Senator Stark’s Sister**

Arya cringes at the weird alliteration bit. Still looking at the headline, she says, “It’s just some no name website making stuff up to help Lannister. Don’t worry, nobody will believe this bullshit.”

Her words are met with silence, so she looks up, brows raised. “Guys? What’s the big deal?”

Margaery’s mouth is pursed while Sansa is wringing her hands.

“I have to go make some calls,” Margaery says stiffly, striding out of the room. Gendry has now come up behind her, standing closely to read the words on the screen over her shoulder.

“Sansa?” she says, annoyance in her voice at her sister’s prolonged silence. All she gets in reply is a mumble. 

“What?”

“I said it’s not bullshit!” Sansa snaps out, face turning red. Arya feels rather than sees Gendry tense up behind her.

“I’ll uh, see you later Arya.” His head is ducked down as he makes his way out of the door, quick strides and long legs leading him out of the room before she can so much as say goodbye. Not that she would have; she’s too busy staring at her sister in confusion.

“Wait, you and Margaery…?” She feels her brows pull together. Sansa and Margaery had been friends for over a decade, but Arya had never noticed anything between them that seemed to give off the idea that they were anything more than close friends. Then again, she hadn’t exactly been paying Sansa that much attention growing up and they obviously didn’t want anyone to know.

Sansa lets out a deep breath, wets her lips, and takes a seat behind the desk. Her hands are placed on top, and Arya can tell she’s trying hard not to bring them together and wring them again.

She’s not exactly sure what to do in this situation. Were Sansa and Margaery upset about being outed? And so publicly? Or was this more about the campaign? Both? She and her sister had never been particularly close, despite moving to the same city when they grew older. They had completely different interests, friends, and life experiences, not to mention plenty of emotional baggage from childhood when it came to each other. But seeing her sister here, tucked into a rolling chair, trying so hard not to fidget and meet her eyes, she feels a deep twisting in her gut. She’s not sure she’s ever seen Sansa seem so small.

She takes a slow step forward, placing her hand on her sister’s back. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sansa is quick to shrug, still not making eye contact.

Biting her lip, she decides to ask, “How long have you two been together?”

Sansa hesitates a moment before saying, “About eight months.” At hearing this, a small voice in her head quickly berates herself for being so jealous of Margaery and Gendry.

Arya bites her lip, still unsure of how to comfort her sister in this moment. All of the Stark children had dealt with the public prying into their personal lives as they grew up. It had been nearly unbearable, seeing stupid headlines about what troubled lives this newspaper or that gossip blog thought she and her siblings were leading. And that had just been when their father was in the Senate. She can’t imagine how much press this will generate due to it being about Sansa, someone who’s already known for being the daughter of a beloved Senator and the sister of a junior Senator, and Margaery, burgeoning politician from an infamously wealthy family. And on top of that, election day is so soon. Despite King’s Landing’s liberal leanings and all of the work that Margaery’s team and volunteers have done, they still voted in Lannister last election. Who knows how they would react to finding out that Margaery likes women? In reality, this could help Lannister’s campaign more than his actual campaign work could. 

Arya can feel her anger growing, a stern frown forming on her face. “Do you think Lannister’s team fed this to them?”

Sansa scoffs. “I’m sure they did.”

“Well what’s Margaery going to do? We need to go on the offensive now, no playing nice. I know a guy that does opposition research for—”

“Arya.” Sansa’s tired tone of voice interrupts her.

“What?”

“Just let Margaery handle this, okay? She’s going to talk to some people and figure out what she wants to do in regard to the campaign.”

Arya’s anger won’t go away that easily. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“This isn’t just about some stupid fucking campaign, Sansa. That bastard had you outed to the whole fucking country. This affects you too.”

Sansa raises her eyebrows. “You don’t think I know that?”

Arya lets out a huff of air and rolls her eyes.

“I trust Margaery to handle this the way she feels best and I’ll support what she decides to do.”

“And if she decides to go public with your relationship?”

“Then we’ll take that step together.”

“And if she decides to deny it. To deny you guys are even together?”

“Then I’ll support that too.”

Standing here, looking at her sister’s earnest face as she professes her trust in Margaery, Arya can’t help but think of Robb and the way he had so sincerely defended his hope for his and Talisa’s relationship. This whole situation is a fucking mess, in more ways than one, but she’s glad that her sister might have even a semblance of that with Margaery.

“Do you love her?”

“I’ve always loved her,” her sister bites out.

Now Arya’s the one raising her eyebrows. “Yes, but are you in love with her?”

Sansa bites the inside of her lip, clearly debating whether she wants to share this with her sister. Making up her mind, “Yes.”

Arya sends her a grin. “Then I’m glad. I like Margaery,” she says simply.

Sansa scoffs. “That’s because you’re both weird horse girls.”

“And proud,” she retorts.

Sansa soon gets back to business after that, pulling out a compact mirror to check her eyes for any signs of redness, slamming the laptop closed, and sending Arya on her way.

She’s just about to walk out of the door of Sansa’s office when she stops and looks back, feeling the need to voice something that had been on her mind since Sansa had admitted the headline was true.

“You could have told me you know.”

Sansa looks up from some paperwork at that, a blank look on her face. “Probably.”

The sisters both stare at each other in silence for a minute, a mutual understanding between them. They both know that, while Arya could have likely been trusted with the information, they had never had that kind of relationship. Arya sends a brief nod to her and makes her way out of the office. She hoped that Margaery and her team would know how to handle this. She still wanted Margaery to win the election and would be beyond disgusted if this somehow lost it for her, but her main concern was Sansa. If there was any major backlash over this, Joffrey Lannister would have her to deal with.

\--

She’d only been able to spend two days in the office that week phonebanking, but Gendry had moved some things around at work, so he’d also be able to come in those evenings. Gendry had learned more about the gossip article when he saw a piece Margaery had written for the King’s Landing Times that had been printed in the Tuesday edition. She had gone for honesty in it, resulting in a moving piece about accepting her sexuality, falling in love with her best friend, and the fear that had prevented her from running as an openly gay woman.

When Arya had gone in to phonebank the first evening that week, she’d been pleased to see Sansa’s confidence back, her head held high as she made calls and trained new volunteers.

Sunday can’t come again soon enough for Arya. She and Gendry planned to drive over separately to the local library where they could vote after canvassing, then go get lunch somewhere nearby. She’s just pulled into the parking lot of the library and spots his truck almost immediately. He must see her pull up, because while she’s parking, he gets out and stands on the sidewalk, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Hi,” she breathes out after briskly walking over to meet him.

“Hey,” he says, going in for a hug.

She can practically feel her eyes bugging out of her head at the feeling of his large, warm hands wrapped around her torso. He pulls back far too soon, a blush on his cheeks but a confident smile on his face.

“Ready to go in?”

She clears her throat before speaking, just to make sure she doesn’t embarrass herself more than the stupid grin on her face probably already is. “Yeah. Do you have your ID?”

He pats the back pocket of his jeans where she assumes his wallet is. “Right here.”

They head inside, immediately approached by a volunteer standing near the door that directs them to a room off the side where polling booths are set up and more volunteers are checking ID’s and scanning ballots.

She turns to Gendry after they’ve both met with a volunteer and gotten their ballots. “Ready to lose your voting virginity?” she asks, accompanied by a toothy grin.

He barks out a laugh. “Yep.”

“Good luck.”

Arya doesn’t take long to fill out her ballot, proudly coloring in Margaery’s oval for state senate, as well as for school board members, amendments, and more. She and Gendry had both gone over their sample ballots a few weeks ago in the office and made sure to look into all candidates for every position and for amendments, so she isn’t surprised when he walks up to a volunteer, ballot in hand, just a few seconds after her. She can’t help but smile as the volunteer shows him how to feed it into the machine, the smallest of twitches near the corner of his mouth as he watches it go in. When he’s done, “I Voted” sticker in hand, he turns toward her, a wide grin on his face. Her own feels fit to burst as she grins back.

\--

**Queen Shireen: **Dinner tonight?

**Arya:** I’m getting dinner w/ Gendry rn

**Arya: **After Tuesday?

**Queen Shireen:** Bitch tf?? You’ve moved onto getting dinner together already?

**Queen Shireen:** I’m legit so offended you didn’t tell me about this.

**Queen Shireen:** Please tell me there’s some romantic candles or some shit and you didn’t take him to that Italian restaurant you’re obsessed with that smells like eggplant?

She rolls her eyes at Shireen’s messages before pocketing her phone. When she looks up sheepishly at Gendry, he’s trying to spear a forkful of lo mein. “Sorry, my friend Shireen was asking to get dinner.”

He slurps the noodles up quickly, a hesitant look on his face when he says, “Oh. Does she wanna come meet us?”

Arya’s hands come up quickly, as if to physically stop that idea. “Oh no, no. I told her I could meet her after Tuesday.”

“Cool,” he replies, nodding at her with a smile.

She starts eating her food, her stomach happy that Gendry had suggested this Chinese restaurant. _Across_ from her favorite Italian place thank you very much.

“Are you nervous about Tuesday then?” he asks.

She shrugs. “Yes and no. We’re doing well in the polls, but you should never rely on those too much. Margin of error and all that. As much as I want Margaery to beat Lannister, I think she and her team did the best they could. I can at least say I’m proud of the work we did.”

A cocky grin forms on his face. “And you got me out of it.”

Somehow, she wills her face not to turn beet red. “And I got you out of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly loved writing this chapter even though it got away from me, so i hope you guys liked it too! also if anyone can tell me how to get my chapter notes to stop showing up as end notes, that'd be great, thanks lol
> 
> -special committee: aka a select committee, is a committee (short explanation for committees: basically the Senate and the House have committees on certain topics, e.g., veteran's affairs, energy and commerce, foreign affairs, that members are assigned to and they basically deal with legislation regarding that topic) that is meant to accomplish a certain task, usually for research but sometimes investigation. they are temporary but can turn permanent. Watergate had its own special committee (Senate Watergate Committee aka Select Committee on Presidential Campaign Activities)  
-fly in day: this might be an unofficial term but it's just the day that a representative or senator flies into the capital from their district/state. if the Senate is in session on Tuesday they likely spent their weekend in their state and flew back into the capital on Monday, which would be their "fly in day"  
-voting precinct: the boundary in your district that you are assigned to vote in. my precinct is different than someone on the other side of my town, so we would not be allowed to vote at the same location. during early voting (where i live at least) multiple locations around the district are open and you can go to any one, no matter your address  
-opposition research: exactly what it sounds like. people get paid to dig up information on a candidate's opponent to be used against them. always seemed kind of cool to me but not always considered the most....moral thing to some


	4. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super happy with this chapter lol. November only lasts 7 days so everything feels a bit rushed and im not even entirely sure there was a point to arya's phone call in the beginning but oh well. 
> 
> 30,000 words later and here we are, at the end! this is my first multi-chapter fic that i've finished, im a little emotional about it. thank you to absolutely everyone who followed along, left kudos and comments, etc. I really hope you all enjoy this last chapter! 
> 
> If anything comes from this story, i hope that it has inspired at least one person to vote in their next election or to at least look into the candidates running!

_November_

_(5 days until the election)_

The first of November that year falls on a Thursday. Arya had thought that things earlier that week in the campaign office had been hectic, but she soon found out that was nothing when compared to Sansa’s full-scale GOTV plan. There were more volunteers in the office that Thursday than Arya had ever seen—a large number of them Tyrell cousins—making phone calls and heading back and forth from the office canvassing. By the time Gendry makes it in, an hour after she has, it looks like a tornado has ripped through the front room.

“Am I in the right place,” he whispers to Arya, phone pressed to her ear as she talks to a voter.

All she can do is roll her eyes and mouth back, “Sansa,” as she “Mhmms” to the man on the line. He nods his head in reply, as if already having a full understanding of her sister’s high-strung ways.

Each volunteer that had shown up was given a goal for the amount of people they were expected to reach that night and, being Sansa’s sister and so involved in the campaign, Arya’s number is fairly high, so she doesn’t get that much time to speak to Gendry during her shift.

People are quickly packing their things and heading out into the night to their cars. She’s cleaning up some small pieces of trash that had been left around—paper plates, water cups—when her phone buzzes on the table. She tosses a balled-up napkin into the trashcan and reaches for her phone.

**Robb sent an image to Stark Siblings™.**

She’s just about to open the message when a very Sansa-sounding scream comes from the back room. In a second her sister is in the front room with Gendry and Arya, a smile stretched out across her face.

“You alright Sansa?”

“Have you seen Robb’s message yet?” her sister squeals.

“No, I was kind of distracted by the banshee scream coming from the back room.”

Rolling her eyes, “Just open it Arya, quick.”

Gendry looks between the two in confusion before carrying on cleaning up.

When Arya opens the message, she’s met with a picture of a hand. Namely, a woman’s hand with a rather large ring on it.

**Robb:** She said yes (;

“Oh my God,” she exhales, eyes flitting back up to Sansa, a mirrored smile now on her own face. “Robb’s getting married!”

“Robb’s getting married!!”

Looking to Gendry, she repeats, “Robb’s getting married!”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I got that.”

“If they want a spring wedding, they need to start planning immediately. Of course, they could always have a long engagement, but Robb doesn’t seem the type and Talisa...” She lets Sansa ramble on aloud about invitations and color palettes, quickly becoming lost in her thoughts. Robb is getting married. Her older brother is getting married. Their mother must be thrilled. She’d been happily surprised when Robb had brought Talisa home to meet them all, ecstatic to finally have at least one child that seemed ready to begin starting a family (of course, Bran would surprise them all a few months later when he brought Meera home, totally over the moon for her).

She feels weird all of a sudden, thinking about her older brother settling down and getting married. Possibly having kids. They’re all grown up now, Robb in his 30s and in the Senate. Hell, even Rickon no longer seems like the baby of the group, in his mid-20s and already climbing the ladder at work.

Gendry’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts. He’s standing right in front of her when he says, “Arya? I’m gonna head out now.” Looking around, she sees Sansa had, at some point, left the room. Who knows how long she’d been standing there like an idiot?

“Right, yeah.” She shakes her head. “I’ll see you later.” She musters up a smile, thrown even more off when he reaches forward and gives a gentle squeeze to her arm before ducking out of the office.

Her thoughts on the way home are a confusing mixture of Gendry’s frequent touches and thoughts on when her and her siblings had grown up so fast.

\--

_(Four days until the election)_

Arya doesn’t have much to do at work that Friday, so by the time her lunch break has rolled around, she’s somehow convinced herself to give her mom a call.

She loves her mother, she would never deny that (well, okay, maybe when she was like thirteen and going through a phase). But, even now, they never exactly see eye to eye. Where Arya has always loved the outdoors—getting dirty as a kid, exploring the land surrounding their estate—Catelyn had always wanted Arya clean and presentable as a child, preferably in dresses. Arya had taken this love of nature and rolled with it, making sure her career allowed her to be outdoors as much as possible. When learning of Arya’s plans, Catelyn’s smile had gone tight, eyes narrowed, while she explained that she thought Arya might choose something more sensible, like finance or economics. So much of their tension over the last few years has stemmed from Arya’s career choice. That had thankfully been put on hold when she’d been dating Ned, her mother delighted over Arya’s choice of boyfriend, but that relationship ended soon after Catelyn found out about it. (Arya, to this day, would claim that she just got bored of being with Ned, but a small part of her—very small but still there—had been a little put out by just how much her mother had liked him.)

She knows her mother loves her too, despite how often she had heard “You need to act more like your sister” growing up. But you never exactly forget the hit your self-esteem had taken from being compared to your sister your whole childhood. This had resulted in pretty minimal contact on Arya’s part.

When her mother answers her call on the third ring, she can’t help but roll her eyes when she says, “Arya. How nice of you to call.”

“Hi Mom. How are you and Dad?”

“We’re well.” There’s an awkward pause from Arya’s end of the phone and a meaningful one from her mother’s end. She knows Arya called for a reason, but she’s going to wait until Arya comes out with it.

“So, Robb popped the question, huh?”

She can practically hear the smile in her mom’s voice. “Yes, your father and I are so happy for him. Of course, there will likely be some negative press when they publicly announce the engagement—it is a short turn around for a relationship, and for your brother to be marrying someone who testified before a committee he serves on, well….” She lets her mother drone on about that for a few minutes, absently picking at the sandwich on her desk that she hadn’t gotten the chance to start eating yet. “But you won’t mind, will you?”

Arya freezes. She practically hear the frustration in her mother’s voice, knowing Arya wasn’t paying attention, when she says, “Arya?”

Her shoulders bunch up again, a sign of faux meekness she hasn’t pulled since she was a child and her mother was scolding her about getting dirt on her new clothes, even though her mother is unable to see her. “I…What was the question again?”

Catelyn lets out a small sigh that sounds so practiced, it’s like she was expecting this. Arya honestly couldn’t even say what had caused her to call her mom up today. Okay, that was a lie. She’d been feeling weird ever since Robb had told them the news and it made her feel oddly nostalgic and…old. Which she definitely knows she shouldn’t be feeling at 29. But come on, did her mom honestly think Arya brought up Robb to talk wedding details?

“What’s wrong Arya?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s not a holiday. It’s not my birthday. There’s no emergency. There are no important upcoming events you’re needed at.”

“What do you—”

“I mean you very rarely call me just to ask how I am.” She feels a pang of guilt deep in her stomach at the tone of her mother’s voice. She sounds…tired.

“I…” Arya rarely finds herself at a loss for words, but it seems she’s run out today.

There’s silence from both ends, and Arya thinks her mother might have sensed her discomfort. That she might move on to other topics. But that’s just not how this works between them.

“Will you be needing a plus one?”

“What?” she asks, bewildered.

“To Robb’s wedding, Arya.”

“Why would I?”

“Your sister tells me that you’ve been seeing someone.”

Arya scowls. Fucking Sansa. She makes sure her frustration isn’t noticeable in her tone when she says, “I’m not seeing anyone, Mom. Sansa doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Hmm,” Catelyn muses on the other end. “So, this man from Margaery’s campaign that you spend a lot of time with, who is he then?”

She can feel her anger building at the thought that Sansa had been giving her mother ammunition for this talk—the one they seem to have at least once a year, particularly when a family member or family friend is getting married. “Gods. Mom, I have many friends from Margaery’s campaign, some of whom are men. Why Sansa has decided to make stuff up just to feed into your assumptions about my life is beyond me.”

Her mother lets out a weary sigh, as if Arya not dating anyone has taken years from her life. “I just worry about you Arya.”

“Why? I have plenty of friends, I have a kick ass job,” her mother grumbles at her choice of words, “and, believe it or not, I actually enjoy my life. Without having a boyfriend.” Okay, so maybe she’s interested in dating Gendry, but it’s not like she’s unhappy now.

“Your brother is getting married, Arya. Sansa is happy with Margaery,” Arya’s eyebrows shoot up a bit, surprised her mother had broached the ‘your sister is dating a woman’ topic so casually—she thought she’d have to wait at least a few more months before she could safely bring it up, “and Bran and Meera have just moved in together.”

“Okay, what about Rickon? It’s not like he’s swimming in dates up in Skagos?”

Her mother tuts. “Rickon is far too young to be worrying about that right now.” Arya rolls her eyes. That hadn’t stopped her mother from trying to push the sons of Senators at her at his age. “Besides, your father and I expect to hear something about Rickon and your friend Shireen Baratheon any day now.” Not entirely surprised at that last statement, but also not entirely happy about it, Arya makes a mental note to have that talk with Shireen about her brother that she never got around to. “Why is it so wrong that I want my daughter to have someone to help take care of her?”

“I don’t need someone to help take care of me! I’ve been doing a pretty damn good job myself since I was a kid.” Arya winces at the last statement that had burst out of her.

Sure, her father was away much of their childhood and her mother was busy with household duties and being the wife of a Senator. But it wasn’t like Arya and her siblings were neglected as children. As the out of place middle child though, Arya often found herself receiving just a little less attention from her mother than the other Stark kids. And it wasn’t even necessarily a bad thing. Arya had grown up to be pretty independent because of it; she was able to explore new things and meet people she never would have if her mother had paid her as much attention as Sansa or Bran or Robb. Even so, this was never a good topic to broach with her mother.

So, she’s surprised when, instead of the usual ensuing argument about how Arya was never left wanting as a child, her mother is just silent for a good minute.

Then, “I have a lunch appointment that I’m already very late to, I’m afraid I’ll have to let you go.”

“Right. I’ll talk to you later then.” The sentence is barely out of her mouth before she hears the click of the phone.

Arguments and hurtful words shared between Arya and her mother are nothing new. Eight times out of ten their phone calls end in biting remarks and terse goodbyes. But the way her mother had hung up, sounding so stiff and upset, was something new.

Either way, Arya didn’t have time to worry too much about it. It’s not like either of them had ever rushed to make up before. Her apologies would have to wait until after Tuesday.

\--

_(Three days until the election)_

9:56 am

“Yes m’am, I understand that Joffrey Lannister_ promised_ to allocate more funding toward afterschool programs, but if you look at his voting record—”

…

“Yes, his grandfather was Speaker of the House but that doesn’t mean—”

…

“Okay, thank you for your time. Have a good day.”

\--

10:32 am

“Yes sir, I understand it’s 10:30 on a Saturday morning...Okay, you’ll be placed on our Do Not Call List.”

\--

12:52 pm

“I come bearing food Arya!” Shireen’s voice calls out, immediately to be shushed by all of the other volunteers in the office on their phones. Sending them a sheepish look in apology, she maneuvers her way over to where Arya is sitting with her laptop and phone.

“You are a lifesaver Shireen. I don’t think I can eat pizza for the next three days straight.”

Her friend sends her a smile. “Yes well, you keep me around for a reason I suppose.” She glances purposely around the crammed room. Dropping her voice a level, “So, where is he?”

Arya rolls her eyes, knowing she’s talking about Gendry. “He works on Saturdays.”

Shireen frowns a little. “Oh. Well, is there another room we can go sit in to eat?”

\--

1:54 pm

“I am getting serious horror flashbacks of all of my dad’s campaigns.”

“You can go if you want Shireen, you don’t have to stay and phonebank.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I let you call…Mr. Richard Sand, 76-year-old Republican, all by yourself?”

Arya squints at her friend suspiciously. “You’re just waiting to see if Gendry ever shows up, aren’t you?”

Shireen only sends a confused look her way, phone up to her ear as she mouths, “Sorry, can’t hear you.”

\--

3:32 pm

“Arya, I said I was sorry!” Sansa’s eyes move around the office surreptitiously, as she whisper-shouts at Arya.

“You still shouldn’t have fucking said anything. You know how she gets.”

“I know but I was so worried about how she would take the news of Marge and I that I guess I just…”

“Threw me under the bus?”

Sansa’s face falls, nerves evident in her features. “I know this has been a problem of mine. For a long time now.” Arya snorts at the understatement. “_But_ I am really sorry and am really trying to work on it. You know how easily I get caught up when talking to her.”

“Well next time, maybe just take a second and think about how_ I_ get when talking to mom.”

Sansa winces for a moment, facing screwing up. “Are we okay?”

Arya lets out a dramatic sigh. “You owe me. Big time.” Before Sansa can say more, “Now go away so I can get back to making calls. We have a seat to flip.”

\--

4:53 pm

“Wow that’s so great, thank you for your support! Would you be interested in volunteering for the campaign?”

…

“Wonderful! So, our office is in downtown King’s Landing…”

\--

5:18 pm

“Sir, that’s a question for the city.”

…

“No, I don’t work for the city, I’m a volunteer for Margaery Tyrell’s campaign.”

…

“Yes, Margaery Tyrell.”

…

“You said you knew who she was sir…”

\--

6:07 pm

“And don’t forget, polls are open until 7pm this Tuesday! Have a great evening.”

Arya hangs up the phone, exhaustion setting into her arms as she lets out a heavy breath. Phonebanking for hours on end was draining, but the weather today had been awful, preventing any canvassing from taking place. They were lucky the power in the office had only flickered a few times rather than gone out completely. King’s Landing wasn’t as known for their storms as places like Storm’s End were, but it could still get pretty nasty out. And with the election so close, they needed all of the time they had to hit the ground. Sansa had been a nervous ball of energy all day, trying to keep the office to its usual standard of organization with so many bodies crammed in the place and also making sure just as many people, if not more, were contacted as would be if they had been able to canvass. Margaery had shown up at one point, looking extra fashionable in her matching raincoat, boots, and umbrella to film a few videos for social media before leaving for a meeting with the local Democratic party leaders.

“Ready to head out?” Shireen asks. Despite her abject horror at the thought of having to phonebank, Shireen had stuck around for a few hours and the two were going to go out to get some dinner.

Arya cracks her back, smirking at the disgusted look Shireen shoots her. “Yep. Do you wanna carpool to the Thai place or go separately?”

“We can carpool.”

They both grab their things, slowly making their way to the door, not looking forward to the now drizzling rain that awaits them.

Arya’s hand is reaching for the doorknob when it’s jerked open and a warm, wet body collides with hers. Large hands wrap around her waist, dwarfing it, to keep her and the mystery body steady. When it seems like neither one of them will fall, she looks up. If the breath hadn’t been knocked from her before, it is now. Her eyes meet Gendry’s brilliantly blue ones and his shaggy, rain soaked black hair. Her fingers itch to run through it. He’s sending a crooked smile down at her.

“Arya,” he murmurs, sounding just as breathless as she feels.

“Gendry. Hi,” She doesn’t know how long they stand like that, the warmth of his hands seeping through to her hips as they stare at each other dumbly, but it can only be a few seconds despite Shireen’s exaggerated throat clearing.

Blushing, Gendry tears his hand away, attention directed toward the girl behind Arya.

Sticking her hand out, “I’m Shireen, Arya’s best friend.”

“So, she thinks,” Arya mutters. Shireen aims a well-placed elbow into Arya’s side, while sending Gendry a sly smile, his hand now shaking hers.

“Arya has told me so much about you Gendry.” He looks surprised that she knows his name, but it only lasts a second before he seems to have processed what Shireen has said.

Arya sends an icy glare back at Shireen before quickly turning to face Gendry again as he asks, with a cocky grin on his face, “Has she?”

Deciding to play it off, Arya schools her face into a serious expression, willing the color in it to not give her away. “All terrible things of course.”

Gendry tries to match her tone, but the smile on his face causes him to fail miserably. “Right, of course.”

There’s silence between them again, not quite uncomfortable.

“Arya and I were just going to go get some Thai food Gendry, would you like to join us?” Shireen might come across as a sweet and innocent woman, but growing up with Stannis Baratheon for a father and Selyse Baratheon for a mother, Arya knows without looking that Shireen’s face is daring Gendry to say no.

But apparently Gendry’s will is stronger than most, as he aims a reluctant look at them both, hand nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. “I actually had planned to phone bank for an hour or so…” he trails off. Arya is pleasantly surprised that Gendry is taking the campaign so seriously, while also hit by a heavy wave of disappointment. Not that spending dinner with both Gendry and Shireen was ideal—she would have expected no less than a full dinner-length interrogation of Gendry by Shireen. “Were you here all day?”

“Yeah, I got here around 9:30. It’s been pretty crazy, especially with the weather.”

“Shit, 9:30? That’s some serious dedication Stark.” A small smile graces Arya’s face at the endearment in his voice when he says her last name. “I’ll let you guys get going to dinner then. Are we still on to canvas tomorrow?”

“Sansa would strangle us if we weren’t.”

Gendry sends a soft smile her way. “Right. I’ll see you in the morning then. It was nice meeting you Shireen,” he tacks on, sending a nod in her direction.

“Likewise.” Shireen’s responding grin is nearly feral, and Arya groans internally at what she’ll have to put up with at dinner.

They’re quiet on the walk to the car, mostly focused on not getting too rained on, but Shireen, never one to disappoint, starts teasing her as soon as the car doors are shut. “Oh Arrrrya, are we still on for tomorrow,” she asks in a deeper voice that would honestly sound fairly similar to Gendry’s own, if not for the exaggerated way she draws out Arya’s name and the kissing faces she sends Arya’s way.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Okay, but seriously, you can’t tell me nothing has happened there, I refuse to believe it.”

Arya starts the car, quiet as she cranes her neck while backing out of the parking lot.

“Honestly, nothing has.”

“But something will, right? You guys are just waiting for the campaign to end?”

“I don’t know about him…”

“But you…?”

“I mean, I figured maybe after I would see if he wants to get dinner or something.”

“But haven’t you already done that?”

“Yeah, but that was in like, a friend way. I’d be more specific that this would be a date.”

Shireen is so quiet for a second, Arya is beginning to become concerned. Then, “Ten bucks says you guys jump each other’s bones before the election is over.”

Arya sends a bewildered look to her friend and lets out what sounds like a squawk. “Shireen!”

\--

_ (Two days before the election)_

The skies are clear the next day, lingering humidity in the air after a downfall of rain the night before. Despite the slight urgency around the office (early voting numbers hadn’t been as high among Democrats in the district as they had hoped), Arya and Gendry feel at ease canvassing together. They’ve been doing this a few weeks now and have their own system down. Gendry, not being much of a people person, will give Arya the run down of the voter’s profile and while Arya does the talking he’ll record their responses.

It might not be the most efficient use of the campaign’s efforts, sending two people out to do the job of one, but Arya’s glad to have the company, especially when it’s Gendry’s. And besides, they always make sure to do extra houses to make up for the fact that Gendry and Arya could be out canvassing alone.

“And I swear, Hot Pie’s face was so fucking red, even his ears!” Arya’s doubled over in laughter as Gendry regales a story about the time he and Hot Pie went out with some other guys from the bar, only to wind up in a strip club.

When she’s settled down, gathering her bearings before halting in front of the next house they need to stop at, she says, “It’s so crazy that we’ve both known Hot Pie for so long, and never met.”

“Yeah well,” he shrugs noncommittedly, “guess we just have pretty different schedules.”

She bites her lip, as she thinks about her plans to ask him out soon. Wonders if she should even wait. His eyes are focused on the spot where her teeth dig into her bottom lip for the briefest of moments before flickering back up to her eyes when she decides to say, “I mean, they’re not that different. We both get off around the same time. We both have Sundays off.” She tries to force her voice to be casual but isn’t entirely sure she’s succeeded when she sees the knowing glint in Gendry’s eyes. Her mouth is opening to say something more—what she isn’t sure—when they hear the loud bark of a dog from a nearby back yard, startling them. Looking away from her, Gendry clears his throat before determinedly looking back down at his phone where they have their turf pulled up.

He takes a small step back—almost so infinitesimal that one could miss it, but Arya doesn’t due to how close they had been standing. “This should be an easy house. Democrats in their 30s.”

Arya feels herself nodding along, plastering on her best “customer service” smile, and moves forward to knock on the house’s front door.

If Gendry can sense the slightly sour mood she’s in for the rest of the day, he makes no move to mention it. He acts normally around her, cracking jokes that she halfheartedly chuckles at and letting his hand brush against the back of hers when they walk next to each other down the road. But now she’s worried. What if all those signs she thought she had read—the sly grins, the soft touches, the conversations they had shared—had all been the acts of a friend? A touchy one, maybe, but one who wasn’t actually flirting? She really thought her feelings were being returned, but maybe she had let Shireen hype her up too much, both seeing things that weren’t actually there. Shireen had really only seen them around each other once, and Arya herself was a hugely biased perspective.

When they drive back to the office afterward, the silence between them is thick with awkwardness, a stark contrast to the busy room they return to. Arya mumbles a quick goodbye to Gendry, letting herself be pulled away by a frazzled Sansa asking for her help.

\--

_(One day before the election)_

**Gendry Waters:** Hey, are you phonebanking today?

**Arya:** Yeah, I’m already at the office

**Gendry Waters:** At 2pm???

**Arya:** I took today and tomorrow off work lol

**Gendry Waters:** Ah, okay

**Gendry Waters**: Will you still be there when I’m off work?

**Arya:** Do u want me to be?

**Gendry Waters:** Yeah

**Arya:** Then I will

\--

Arya isn’t sure what the fuck took possession of her body and caused her to say something as forward as “Do u want me to be” because it certainly wasn’t her brain. Not after she’d spent all of last night, and this morning…and this afternoon stressing about having misread her and Gendry’s entire relationship. If she hadn’t already messed up by assuming her friend (_yes her friend_, her brain screamed at her) Gendry would want to be more than that and he hadn’t already caught on to Arya’s less than innocent intentions, he sure would now.

Or maybe, her friend Gendry, would read it as any friend would read it: in a “Oh, hey I’ll stay if you want me to!” way. Regardless, she’s now in the office, distracting herself from Gendry’s imminent arrival by allowing Sansa and Margaery to run Margaery’s respective speeches to use if she wins or loses tomorrow night. After the millionth argument over whether or not the closing line in Margaery’s concession speech was a run-on sentence or not, Arya finally pulls her phone out to check her messages, grateful for any sort of distraction. She’d been both phonebanking and canvassing all day and was going to drag Gendry along with her to make a food run for the volunteers as soon as he got here. Assuming she hadn’t made things weird between them with her attitude yesterday or her texts today.

She looks down and frowns upon seeing she has three missed texts from him, all spaced about 20 minutes apart.

**Gendry Waters:** Leaving work now

**Gendry Waters:** Just got here. Where are you…?

**Gendry Waters:** Okay so I’m just going to make calls now?

She gets up and heads to the main room, her departure unnoticed by Sansa and Margaery, as they’re both still tackling the sentence structure in Margaery’s speeches.

She spots Gendry among the room full of people easily. On account of his dark hair and large frame, of course.

Coming up behind him, frown still on her face, she says, “What are you doing?”

He jumps in his chair a little, phone clattering to the table as he turns to look at her. “Fuck. I’m making calls, what does it look like I’m doing? Where were you?”

“In the back, sorry. I didn’t see your messages.”

“Should I move back there to make calls?”

“Nah, we’re going to go pick up food for everyone.”

“Oh,” is all he replies.

She leaves him there, heading back to the office Margaery and Sansa are occupying (rolling her eyes at how they seem to have moved past their weird grammar argument and are now cozying up in the overlarge desk chair as they work on something else) to place the order and get the money for the food.

Ten minutes later, she’s in Gendry’s truck, right hand hanging out of the window as a breeze ruffles her hair.

“You know, we probably could have fit the pizza better in your car,” he says.

“Yeah, but I’ve never been in your truck,” is all she says, serene smile on her face.

He scoffs but says no more, letting the radio static fill the cab of the truck instead of their voices. Arya hasn’t been this calm since before they went canvassing yesterday, instead a pile of anxiety over whether she had screwed things up between them. Again. Only, of course that can’t last, because Gendry has to bring it up.

“Are we okay?”

She feels herself tense, pulls her right hand back into the cab, as she begins to finger the hem of her t-shirt out of habit.

“What do you mean?”

He’s quiet for a minute, seemingly unwilling to answer her, until he finally lets out a sigh. “Don’t do this, Arya.”

She feels herself startle, confusion knitting itself across her brow. “What? Don’t do what?”

“Shut me out.” Her mouth falls open, gaping like a fish while she tries to process what he means. “I don’t…I don’t have a lot of friends, okay? Sure, I have the guys at the shop and the guys down at the bar, but I wouldn’t really call any of them friends except maybe Hot Pie, and that’s purely do to circumstance.” Her mouth almost twitches up into a smile, despite the serious conversation. She knows Hot Pie and Gendry are really friends, even if they hadn’t started out looking to be. “And you just kind of…came into my life—forced your way in really—and we became friends. And I don’t know if I said or did anything yesterday to upset you, but please let me know if so, because it’s been bugging the shit out of me, and I don’t want things to be weird again.”

All she can do is blink. Blink while she stares at Gendry’s profile, his eyes facing the road while his hands turn white where they grip tightly around the steering wheel, jaw clenching and unclenching. Despite his tense posture, the setting sun frames his silhouette so beautifully, and Arya finds herself trying to take a mental snapshot of the moment.

When she’s been silently staring for too long, he looks over at her, worry evident in his eyes. That’s what hits her—what makes her realizes how stupidly anxious she’s been about all of this, for weeks, not just the past day. She’s friends with Gendry and has a crush on Gendry, but if he doesn’t feel the same way, then it’s not the end of the world. It’s no reason to let their friendship—one she really enjoys—suffer.

Shaking her head, “No. No you didn’t do anything wrong. I was being an idiot, but I’m over it.”

“You sure?” he asks, voice gruff.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” A beat passes. A teasing grin forms on her face. “Who knew you were such a softy.”

“Shut up,” Gendry grumbles.

They pull into the pizza place a few minutes later then make the trip back, the ride no longer filled with silence but their laughter, as they try their hardest to keep the stack of pizzas from sliding off the cab bench to the truck floor and talking about everything and nothing.

\--

When they arrive back to the office, to both cheers and boos at bringing deliverance in the form of pizza, Arya persuades Gendry to work in Sansa’s back office with her. He spent the night making phone calls, his gruff tone of voice and bewilderment at the strange calls not having changed despite having been at this for weeks now. Arya spent much of the time scarfing down slices of pizza, despite her complaints about it to Shireen, and looking over the poll numbers the campaign had received. Everyone had left around 8:30 and now, at a quarter ‘til 9, Gendry himself is up on his feet, stretching before packing up. Sansa and Margaery had gone into a whole other office with Margaery’s campaign manager, the door closed as they talk over last minute issues before the big day tomorrow, so the only sound in the whole place is their lightly muffled voices drifting through the door, a clock ticking away on the office wall, and Arya’s own yawns as she too stands up and begins to pack. She’s blinking her eyes sleepily, thinking about taking a hot shower after spending the day cooped up in here, when something…strange happens. 

If Arya had been asked just a few months ago what was going on with Gendry, she would have said he was just a voter she had somehow managed to win over and was getting to know a bit. If you had asked her a few weeks ago, she would have tentatively said they were friends. And yesterday she would have said they could become more than that. Now she’s…well now she’s pretty fucking confused. When she had left to go get pizza with him, she was entirely ready to just be friends. To forget her plans for after the election—not that she had many (Just ideas of conversations over Italian food and maybe showing him the Kingswood State Park—only because he told her he’s never been—and maybe even camping or stargazing because, fuck, Arya isn’t super romantic, she just loves nature, okay?). She was ready to be the best damn friend she could be and not at all let her feelings get in the way of that. And Gendry’s speech in the truck all but solidified that resolve, because he seemed like he really needs a friend, didn’t he?

But now she’s confused because he’s got his hand pressed firmly to her back, the ever-present warmth that he seems to exude seeping through her shirt. He’s leaning forward to reach something on the far side of the desk past Arya—a pencil or something—and his whole body seems to tower over her, his chest a comforting weight on her back. Her eyes widen because, _what the fuck_? He could have walked around for the pen—or pencil or whatever—or even asked her to get it. But no, he leaned over her, pressing them nearly flush together. And now it’s in his hand, and instead of backing away quickly to shove it in his bag (_Is it even his_, a voice in her questions. Had he even used a pencil tonight?) his presence still lingers behind her.

All Arya can think of through the sudden lust-addled state that seems to have taken over her brain, is about Shireen’s comment. The one about people fucking in campaign offices. She gulps nervously, shivers the tiniest bit when she feels Gendry’s breath on her neck. There had been casual, even, dare she think it, flirty touches between them before, but nothing like this.

She’s about to say something—maybe “what are you doing” but more likely “you know they say a lot of people have sex in campaign offices”—but instead, to her mortification, all that manages to come out is a weird, high-pitched whimper, one that she swears she has never made in her entire life. She can feel the fluttering of Gendry’s heart against her back and feels him suck in a bit of air as he softly says, “Arya, I—”

Only to be cut off by the opening of a door, voices floating to their room from down the hall. He moves away from her quickly, just in time to find himself practically on the opposite side of the space as her when Margaery and her campaign manager come in, both sending them confused smiles and thanking them for their help while letting them know they’re about to lock up for the night.

The four of them and Sansa walk out to the parking lot as a group, the other three chatting while Arya and Gendry remain silent. Everyone says their goodbyes and heads to their cars except Arya and Gendry, still standing under the spotlight attached to the front of the building, both shifting on their feet nervously.

His face looks flushed, but that could be from anything, right? The room they had been in was pretty warm or maybe it was a trick of the light.

“I’ll see you at the party tomorrow, right?”

Arya would be at the office and polling sites all day, getting as many last-minute votes for Margaery as possible. Once polls closed at 7, everyone who worked on the campaign was invited to a watch party for Margaery being held at a local brewery. Gendry was going to run a few errands after work and meet her there afterwards. Shireen and Hot Pie had both even mentioned stopping by.

She keeps her head directed downward, unable to meet Gendry’s eyes knowing he _had_ to have heard that sound that escaped her.

“Yep, I’ll uh, see you there. Pal.” She cringes at her words, hopes he doesn’t see it since she’s not exactly meeting his eyes right now, and hurries off toward her car.

She tries to work things out in her head on the way home but finds that she honestly doesn’t have the energy to, instead running on autopilot as she drives and falling into a deep sleep once her head hits her pillow.

\--

_(Election day)_

Like every election day she’s had a personal stake in, Arya finds herself buzzing all day. The work is nonstop. From 8:30-3:30 she’s running back and forth from the office, shuttling those who don’t have cars around to canvass and getting in some canvassing herself, while also stopping in at some polling sites to get a feel for Margaery’s numbers and see how efficiently the locations were being run, lest the campaign need to file any complaints about voter suppression. The responses she gets from voters waiting in line are an even mix of “I’m voting for Margaery,” “I’m voting for Lannister,” and “None of your fucking business.”

Sansa leaves the office around 4 to stop at a polling site for an hour to talk up Margaery some more to those waiting in line before getting ready for the watch party and going to decorate the inside of the brewery, which leaves Arya, more or less in charge of all of the volunteers back at the office looking to phonebank. Despite Sansa having practically taken over field work, Margaery does have a field director. Only she’s busy cutting remaining turf for last minute canvassing and dealing with the craziness of election day, so Arya gladly helps out with this task.

She feels tense and shaky all day, and barely has time for a breath until Shireen stops by around 5, takes one look at Arya, and pulls a whole ass meal out of her bag, insisting that Arya take a break and eat.

“Arya, you really need to relax,” her friend says, all concern.

She sighs. “I know,” comes out of her mouth, around a bite of her sub. “I’m just really nervous, you know? I really want Margaery to win. The people of King’s Landing deserve someone like her in office.”

“I know. But there’s really nothing more you can do. The polls close soon, and you need to be ready to accept the outcome.”

“Okay but what if there was something I could have done differently? Something that could have made a difference between Margaery winning over Joffrey?”

“Arya.” Shireen places both hands gently on Arya’s shoulders. “You did your best, okay? So, eat your food, do whatever last minute things you had planned, and let’s get out of here so we can go get ready, okay?”

Arya’s shoulders sag, heavy under the weight of her nerves. “Yeah, okay.”

\--

Things in the office seem to wind down after that, people slowly making their way out to get ready to head for the brewery. It’s around 6 when Arya finally lets Shireen drag her out of there and back to her place, and that’s only after getting three separate assurances that the field director has everything handled for the next hour.

They arrive at the brewery--aptly named Aegon’s Ale—Margaery and Sansa en route from a nearby polling station. She recognizes a few familiar faces among the crowd—some volunteers from Margaery’s campaign, members of the local Democratic party, and member of Margaery’s family that Arya has met over the years.

Hot Pie is standing all by himself by the bar, beer in hand, swaying a bit to the beat playing over the speakers when he spots Arya and Shireen, waving them over excitedly.

“Arya, Shireen! Glad you’re here. Not a very lively party, is it,” he tries to whisper, only it ends up being pretty loud seeing as he has to be heard over the music.

Arya laughs. “Hot Pie, the polls only just closed. More people will show up.”

“Oh,” is all he says, before sipping contentedly at his drink.

The three of them are standing around, talking about random shit that had happened to them so far that week, when Arya feels a presence at her back and sees Hot Pie smiling at someone behind her.

“Gendry! I didn’t know you would be here.”

Arya turns around quickly, nearly colliding with Gendry behind her, that’s how close he was standing.

“You know I was working on the campaign Hot Pie,” he says with minor irritation.

“Yeah but, you know, parties aren’t really your thing,” the other man says with a shrug. “Like, remember that time we went to that party at Anguy’s, and that girl was hitting on you, the one with the black hair? And you were so embarrassed you—”

“Okay Hot Pie, that’s enough! I’m sure we all get it, I’m not a party person,” Gendry says, cheeks flushed.

Arya smirks up at him while Shireen hides a laugh behind her hand. Without tearing her eyes from Gendry’s face, she says, “No, do go on Hot Pie.”

Gendry prepares to give her a murderous look, but stops after giving her a quick once over, looking startled after. “You’re wearing a dress,” he states, looking dumbfounded.

“Nice observation,” she jokes.

“I mean, you uh. You look good.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “Because I’m wearing a dress?”

Gendry’s cheeks heat as he scrambles for words. “No, no I mean, you always look good. Dress or not. You know. Whatever you wear. You look…good in.”

She hears Hot Pie and Shireen snickering behind her, feels her own heart fluttering rapidly. Playing it cool, “I’m just screwing with you Gendry. You look nice too.”

Then Gendry, the man who had all but had her glued to his chest last night, had even heard her make the most humiliating noise in response, blushes redder than she’s ever seen him.

Distantly she hears Shireen mutter something about getting a room as she shuffles off with Hot Pie toward another area of the brewery, but she’s a little too focused on the bashful look still gracing Gendry’s face to really pay substantial attention.

They’re just smiling at each other—large, uninhibited things—when Margaery comes strolling in, Sansa and her campaign manager trailing behind her. The brewery erupts into cheers, and Arya and Gendry’s eyes finally leave each other, turning toward the small stage that’s been erected at the front of the brewery that Margaery is stepping onto. There’s a large TV next to it and small TVs placed throughout the brewery. They’ll be streaming a local channel that will be reporting numbers for local elections on the large TV, while others will be set to Westeros News Network, which will be covering the governor’s race as well as multiple Senate races across the country.

Margaery’s speech is short, as she thanks everyone for their help and support over the last year. Arya can see her growing tearful near the end, as she touches on what this experience has meant to her and how she hopes that by the end of the night she’ll be able to say that she’s the district’s representative; how prepared she is to meaningfully represent them all. She finishes off on a lighter note, encouraging everyone to take advantage of the food and refreshments and overall to enjoy the night of politics among friends.

Arya and Gendry join back up with their Shireen and Hot Pie and slowly make their way from group to group, talking to other volunteers, family of Margaery, and constituents who had supported Margaery. Meanwhile, the numbers slowly begin trickling in on the screen for the State Senate race.

Arya checks the other TVs every so often, wanting to know how the federal races are going. She knows that some Senate friends of Robb and her family are up for reelection and there are a few Senators and Representatives that she hopes get the boot from office tonight. She’s happy to see that, after an hour, Senator Martell from Dorne has easily secured his seat yet again.

King’s Landing is a large district but local races like this generally don’t take very long to count, especially when early voting and mail-in ballots have already been counted. The numbers are going back and forth for the first hour, nearly evenly split 49% to 51%. It’s getting closer and closer, with just a few polling locations not having yet reported in, and the brewery has a tense air about it, despite everyone still drinking, eating, and talking. Almost all eyes are focused on the screen or Margaery, who still looks the picture of grace, if not a shade paler than usual, so Arya is surprised when she feels a gentle tug on her arm and looks up to see Gendry’s hand on her.

She sends him a questioning look, but he only nods his head toward the back of the room. She gets up, sparing one last glance for the TV screen and sends a shrug to Shireen, who’s now looking at her questioningly, before turning away and letting him drag her toward a darkened hallway near the back of the room.

There’s still plenty of noise in the brewery, coming from the TVs and the people inside, but she feels as though, in this space, just the two of them, she needs to keep her voice low.

“Gendry? What are we doing? I think this space is for employees only.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, running his hand through his hair and across the back of his neck, a tell-tale sign that means he’s nervous.

“Gendry?” she repeats, “You’re freaking me out, what’s up?” She shifts on her feet, looking up and down the hallway to be sure there aren’t any employees around. They can’t see the main room from here and likely wouldn’t know if someone was even coming.

“Things…,” he starts, looking around the hallways as if the words he can’t seem to find will appear to him on the walls or the floor. He rolls his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and looks Arya in the eyes with such a determined look, she nearly stumbles backward from the force of it. “Things are about to get really exciting or really sad in there. And I have something to say, and I’ve wanted to say it for a while now and I’ve had a few beers,” he lets out a shaky laugh, “and I think now is really the only chance I’m going to get. Or maybe the only one I’ll take. Fuck, I don’t know.”

Arya feels a nervous flutter in her stomach, one she tells to quit because honestly, Gendry could be talking about anything. He did have a few beers; maybe he wants to tell her that he values her friendship again, or that he hates his job, or maybe that he’s leaving town to join the circus. _Or that he likes you_, a voice in her head dares to whisper.

“Gendry,” she wets her lips, tries not to freak out as his eyes follow the movement. “What is it? What do you want to say?”

He leans forward, pauses for a second and stares at her intently as if briefly rehearsing the words in his head. Only he doesn’t say anything, instead reaching forward to cup her jaw and press his lips to hers. It’s clumsy, more teeth than anything as Arya was _not_ prepared for that—she was prepared for embarrassment over wrongly reading into things again or even a declaration of feelings, perhaps—but regardless Arya feels her stomach doing somersaults, over the moon as they both readjust their mouths, slanting them against each other more perfectly. His hand—his large, warm hand that she’s thought about touching her way too much—is still cupping her jaw, pressing softly against her skin, while her own hand reaches up and clutches at the back of his head, fingers rifling through that thick black hair that she’s only dreamed of carding her fingers through. Gendry lets out a soft gasp against her lips as Arya gives a slight tug on that hair, giving her the perfect opening to press her tongue tentatively into his own mouth. Gendry is breaking out into a smile against her lips and Arya soon finds herself mirroring it, so the kiss truthfully doesn’t last long.

They break apart, breathless and grinning. Gendry is still stooped forward, his face just inches from hers, and he takes advantage of that to press a quick, soft kiss against her lips, and then another, before moving onto her jaw. The ones he leaves there are open-mouthed, the hot trail he leaves sends a familiar heat to her stomach, and her eyes begin fluttering closed.

“Gendry,” she exhales softly. He pulls away quickly and Arya’s eyes snap open, worried that she’d gone too far. But, instead of seeing regret or horror on his face, his eyes are bright, and his grin is wide, a look of adoration on his face as he moves his hand from her jaw to her waist.

“Gods I like you,” he utters quietly.

“Do you really?” she asks, feeling utterly ridiculous because honestly, he’d just kissed the shit out of her. But she had to be sure.

He rolls his eyes, hand flexing from its spot on her waist. “I’ve been flirting with you for weeks.”

“You might just have been a flirty person,” she says around a laugh.

“Arya,” he deadpans, “when have you ever seen me flirt with anyone?”

She stammers for a few seconds before, “When you met Margaery!”

His eyes widen. “What? You thought I was flirting with Margaery?!”

Okay so she knew that Margaery was with Sansa—that Margaery had likely not even thought of flirting with Gendry—but that didn’t mean Gendry hadn’t flirted with her. “You were all smiley and laughing a lot when you met,” she admits weakly.

He has a soft grin on his face, pulls her in for one more kiss to the lips, this one lingering, before saying, “Arya, our conversation when we first met was 50% about my work and 50% about you.”

“Oh,” she says shyly. She can feel the blush spreading on her cheeks but can’t find it in her to care. Gendry had been flirting with her. Gendry likes her. Gendry had pulled her aside during the watch party, into a darkened hallway just to admit his feelings and kiss her.

That last thought has her snapping out of her post-kiss haze, standing up straight in Gendry’s hold while he looks at her with confusion.

She thinks he says her name, but she’s too focused on the sudden cheers sounding from outside the hallway. She shakes Gendry’s hand off of her waist and grabs it with her own, pulling him back out into the main room. Margaery is walking onto the stage, her campaign manager coming up with her, while Sansa waits beside the stairs, smiling up at Margaery with a lovesick look on her face.

She turns to Gendry, whose attention had also turned to the stage, a small grin on his face.

“She won,” Arya says even though they obviously both know that.

He looks down at her, tightening his hold on her hand. “She did.”

“We helped do that!” she exclaims over the cheering and chants of “Margaery” building around the room. They both turn back toward the stage to listen to Margaery speak. Phones are pointed at her, some livestreaming the speech. She feels someone sidle up to her other side and turns to see Shireen, a knowing look on her face as she glances from Arya’s hand, currently holding Gendry’s, to Arya’s face.

“Later,” Arya mouths. Shireen nods and both of their attentions turn to the woman of the hour.

\--

It’s been three hours since Margaery’s victory. Multiple champagne bottles have been popped, there’s environmentally safe confetti littering the floor, and Arya can already imagine the hangover she’ll be sporting at work tomorrow. She’d lost Gendry around her second glass of champagne; Sansa had rushed up to her, all but dragging her over to Margaery and her campaign team as they celebrated and listened to Arya roast Joffrey (the ass hadn’t even bothered with a concession speech—word was that he had stormed out of his own watch party, throwing his glass of wine at the wall).

Shireen had left after an hour as she needed to be up early for work, and congratulated Margaery one last time before saying goodbye to Arya, lecturing her about going home early because she too needs to be up early for work.

Hot Pie had found her around ten minutes ago to say his goodbyes. She’d asked him where Gendry had gotten around to, but he shrugged, saying the last he’d seen him he was at the bar.

She’s looked around the now emptying brewery twice, still unable to find him. Deciding to finally just give him a call, she goes to her table to grab her phone, only to see she has three new messages from him.

**Gendry Waters:** where’d u get off 2?

**Gendry Waters:** ok I see u, you’re busy. I’ll talk to you tomorrow! Don’t drive home, uber or something. & let me know ewhn u get home

**Gendry Waters: **just got home. I had a great time tonight (:

She smiles at her screen, both at his concern and how downhill his grammar and spelling seem to go after he’s had a few drinks.

Putting her phone back in her bag, she starts heading toward Sansa who, despite having had plenty of champagne herself, is organizing a cleaning crew.

She gets an uber back to her house near midnight, tired and feeling gross, but even that can’t diminish the excitement still coursing through her as she texts Gendry to let him know she got home safe.

\--

_(One day post-election)_

Arya feels like shit. Or roadkill. Or garbage. All of the above. There’s an incessant knocking in her head that even shoving her pillow over it won’t block out.

“Arya! Open up!”

Okay. The voice in her head sounds a lot like Shireen.

It takes about ten more seconds of the knocking and Shireen’s voice continuing to call out for her to finally realize that the knocking isn’t in her head and neither is her friend’s voice. She stumbles out of bed and, somehow, makes it to the front door without keeling over. Opening it up, Shireen barrels in past her.

“Hurry up and get ready for work, I’m going to take you to get your car.”

Arya just stares at her for a second, brain working overtime in order to both understand the words and not puke in her front hallway. “How are you so awake and put together right now?” she grumbles.

“Because I did not drink nearly as much as you,” Shireen states matter-of-factly.

“All I had was champagne?” She asks in confusion.

“You also took shots Arya. You don’t remember Hot Pie, egging you on? I really thought that new boyfriend of yours might be more responsible, but he was right there with you.” She adds in an eye roll for extra affect.

Right. Boyfriend. Gendry. Gendry her boyfriend?

She thinks her cheeks would be a rosy shade of red right now if she weren’t so queasy. “He’s not my…I mean we didn’t talk about…I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Shireen raises an eyebrow at her. “Yet.”

She hesitates a second, then nods. “Yet.”

Her head begins pounding mercilessly, whether from all of the alcohol she apparently consumed or from thinking too hard about the Gendry situation she doesn’t know, but in an instant her hands are cradling her head.

“It is way too early for this. I should still be drunk right now.”

She feels Shireen’s hand wrap gently around her waist, shuffling her into her living room and down on her couch. “Do you want to call out of work today?”

“I really shouldn’t. I already took off Monday and Tuesday.”

“You do more than enough overtime at work, I’m sure your boss will understand.” Shireen’s voice is distant, likely coming from her bathroom as she rifles through Arya’s medicine cabinet. She hears Shireen’s footsteps making their way into the kitchen now, along with the clinking of glasses and the sound of water being poured. “Besides, the weather is supposed to be terrible today, you probably wouldn’t get much done anyway.”

She nods in agreement, taking the offered pill and glass of water that Shireen offers her when she returns to the living room. Laying back on the couch after taking it, she lets Shireen mother her for a bit before she leaves, laying a blanket on her and refilling her glass of water. “You’re the best.”

“I know. We’ll get your car after work, okay? Make sure you call your boss soon.”

“Got it. Thanks so much.”

Shireen nods, rushing out to head off toward work herself. She’s half out of the door, twisting the lock when she says, “Call him?”

“What?” Arya mumbles, already half asleep again.

“Gendry. You should call him before you spend half the day worrying over nothing like I know you will.”

Arya just mumbles in reply, asleep before Shireen has even pulled out of her driveway, an alarm set to make sure she calls in to work.

\--

Shireen is right. In typical Arya fashion, she does spend the day worrying about things with Gendry. Which is dumb, because he had literally admitted to liking her last night. Only he’d been drunk, hadn’t he? They say drunk minds speak sober hearts, but Arya isn’t sure she believes that. She’s said all sorts of untrue things when drunk—what’s to say Gendry doesn’t do the same?

And he hadn’t said anything in response to the texts she’d sent last night. Her drunken, “made it hmeom. I ha fun 2” stared back at her all day, as she opened and closed her iMessage app constantly.

She finally decides to keep herself busy by doing chores around the house, if only to keep her hands from reaching her for her phone again. Despite the show Shireen had been privy to this morning, and the impression of a half-dead Arya she had given her boss over the phone when she called in, Arya’s hangovers are best treated by keeping busy. Almost as if, by forcing her mind to focus on other things, she can power through the nausea and headache.

So, she does stay busy. Her laundry gets done—washed, dried, folded, _and _put away—the few meagre glasses in her sink get cleaned, she vacuums and mops the floors, and she even finds herself dusting every nook and cranny around the place. Arya’s apartment never looks cleaner than after she’s had a night out.

When she’s done with all of that, she takes a much-needed shower—having skipped out on one last night—then changes the sheets on her bed, washing those too. 

She settles back down on the couch around 5:30, finally daring to check her phone. She has just one missed message, from about an hour ago.

**Queen Shireen:** I got off work early. Don’t worry about your car, it’s taken care of—I nabbed your keys on my way out this morning. They’re under your doormat.

She peeks out of a window facing her driveway, surprised to see her car already sitting there. Shireen must have somehow gotten it here when she was in the shower, because it definitely hadn’t been there all day.

**Arya:** You’re the absolute best. Love you

Not even a minute later, while Arya is pulling out various takeout menus from a drawer in her kitchen, her phone buzzes again with a reply from Shireen.

**Queen Shireen:** I know, love you too.

**Queen Shireen:** Did you call Gendry yet?

She doesn’t want to lie, but she also doesn’t want to admit that she’s spent the day being an emotionally stunted adult.

So, instead she says,

**Arya:** About that….

A little bubble immediately appears, signaling that Shireen is typing, and Arya can practically feel the disappointment through the screen. She exits the app, giving herself the option of pretending she hadn’t seen it yet as the message appears at the top. She’s about to read the few words that the notification lets her make out without opening the message, when her screen immediately alerts her that she’s getting a phone call from Gendry.

She panics for the briefest of moments, takes a deep breath, and lets it ring one more time before answering, both to give her time to mentally prepare and so she doesn’t come off as if she was waiting for him to call.

“Hello?”

“Arya, hi.” She can hear the smile in his voice and feels some of the tension in her shoulders ease. She’s so focused on imagining that smile, that she forgets to say anything, silence the only sound on the line for a moment.

Gendry breaks it first. “So, um, I meant to call earlier. Or text you.”

“It’s okay,” rushes out of her. Even though it really hadn’t been.

“I just uh. Well, I was pretty hungover this morning and called out of work, so I’ve kind of just been miserable on my couch all day.”

She lets out a snort, relief washing over her at the realization that she’s worried about nothing.

“Me too.”

“Oh yeah? Anyway um, well I just wanted to say that I meant what I said last night. Everything.”

“Oh. Good, me too.”

He lets out a chuckle, only, to Arya’s confusion, it sounds nervous. “Yeah, um, I remember most of last night, but I don’t think you ever actually…said anything. About how you feel I mean.”

Shit, she hadn’t. Here she had been, worrying all day that Gendry hadn’t meant what he had said, meanwhile he had been worried because she literally hadn’t said anything at all.

“I do too,” she blurts out. “Like you, I mean.”

He breathes out a relieved sigh. “Great, that’s. That’s great. Do you maybe want to uh, get dinner sometime?”

“How about tonight,” she asks, unconcerned about sounding overeager. She thinks she’s waited long enough for this.

He laughs. “I don’t think I’m in the right state to go out in public right now. We could order in?”

Her lips curve up into a smile. “Sounds good.” A beat passes. “How do you feel about Italian food?”

\--

Chat: “Uncle Renly 2.0”

**Arya:** Hello

**Arya:** It’s-a-me, Arya-o

**Arya:** I am here 2 tell u that I “bagged” uncle renly 2.0

**Arya:** but don’t call him that ffs, his name is gendry

**Arya:** also, we are going to pick up food for our first date, so I won’t be replying to any texts, memes or otherwise, until 2morrow

**Arya:** love u both goodnight

**Meera (W)eed:** Omg go Arya!!

**Meera (W)eed:** Bran read these over my shoulder but dw, he promises not to tell your mom, lol

**Queen Shireen:** Omfg.

**Queen Shireen:** The power I have.

**Queen Shireen:** I send one stern text and you immediately get your shit together.

**Queen Shireen:** I’m so proud of you :’)

**Queen Shireen: **Wait, do you owe me $10?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i debated for a hot second on whether the hallway scene should become a little more, ahem, rated E but ultimately decided against it. i have sort of planned a oneshot to go along with this where arya and gendry do put a campaign office to good use if anyone is interested in me writing that!  
i have.....quite a few gendrya fics and oneshots as well as some reddie stuff on the back burner so i'll be back soon, but i'm also on tumblr @ ladystvrk! Thanks for reading!
> 
> -GOTV (get out the vote): ok so this is an actual program with steps to follow in order to get as many people out and voting for your candidate but essentially it's just doubling down on canvassing and phonebanking & making sure that voting is going smoothly  
-seat to flip: when arya says this she means flipping the seat (the State Senate position) from red to blue aka from Republican to Democrat  
-concession speech: the losing candidate (generally) will publicly yield to the winning candidate after the winner has become clear. it is optional but sometimes if a candidate does not concede it is because they suspect electoral fraud, or cheating, happened (in which case they would demand a recount). it's not a good look to not have a concession speech   
-the polling site: often volunteers or even candidates will hang around polling sites while people stand in line to vote in order to make one last push to get their name out there.   
-watch party: candidates for all sorts of political races hold watch parties where they gather with their campaign team and supporters, as results are often broadcast (state senate results would be difficult to actually watch, but we're going to pretend it's not difficult in the fic). people just really into election results/politics also host watch parties. they are uhhhh, frustrating and long  
-field work/field director: this is the outreach area; a field director would be in charge of planning and coordinating canvassing and phonebanking efforts, among other things. margaery has one (who is unnamed) but sansa kind of took over lol  
-mail-in voting/absentee ballot: if you want to vote early, can't make it to the election site, or will be absent from the area during the election, you can have your ballot mailed to you, fill it out, and mail it back in before the election to make sure your vote is still counted. honestly kind of controversial because, while it does help people vote who may not have been able to before, there are many cases where people never received their ballots, their sent-in ballots weren't received, etc.

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely hate canvassing but arya is way more of a people person, so hopefully i didn't project too much  
I have chapter 2 written and am just starting chapter 3, so when that's finished I'll post chapter 2! I hope you guys enjoyed the beginning of this and are interested in more!
> 
> \--  
Here are a few things you might want to know to understand the context of this chapter
> 
> -constituent: basically a voter in the district  
-primary election: this election is where you vote between candidates to see who will represent their party in the main election against the other party candidate(s). primaries are on different days in different states. where i live, the primary in 2018 was in mid-august but it really varies, but that's when i've made it in the story. in a closed primary, you may only vote for a candidate running for the party you are registered with (i.e., a Democrat can only vote for a Democrat, a Republican can only vote for a Republican, etc.). some states have open primaries  
-general election: this is the main election that happens in November.  
-midterm election: major elections take place every 2 years in America. a midterm election is one in which you are NOT voting for president (ex. 2018). these are still super important elections!!  
-canvassing: the bread & butter of campaigns and my own personal hell. this is, essentially, going door knocking and asking to speak with people about your candidate.  
-phonebanking: calling people over the phone to speak about your candidate. sucks slightly less than canvassing.  
-state senate: each state has their own senate and house of representatives who meet in the state's capital. when someone is called a Senator (ex. Marco Rubio or Elizabeth Warren) they are talking about Senators who represent the whole state, and are part of the federal government. state senators deal with state legislation, not federal. this is what margaery is running for, while robb is a Senator. state senators are elected every two years, while 1/3 of Senators are up for reelection every year (meaning Robb will be in office for 6 years at a time)  
-house of representatives: not super relevant to the story but there is a HoR at both the state and federal level (like the senate). they all serve 2 year terms  
-Independents: the two major parties in America are the Democratic party and the Republican party, however you may also register as an Independent--someone not affiliated with either party. people do this for many reasons (usually because they identify with neither party). people registered as independents may be far left, far right, or even moderate.


End file.
